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HARVARD
COLLEGE
LIBRARY

PLATO, AND THE OTHER COMPANIONS OF SOKRATES.

PLATO

aND THE

OTHER COMPANIONS OF SOKRATES.

GEORGE GROTE,

AUTHOR OF THE ‘UISTORY OF OREECE'.

4 NEW EDITION.

IN FOUR VOLUMES.
Vor. IT.

«Ὁ “
LONDON:
JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET. |

1888,

The eight of Translation ts reserved.

UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY

SE at

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER XII.

ALKIBIADEs I. ann II.

PAGE

Sitpation sa posed in the dialogue.

krates and Alkibi-

ade. .
Exorbitant hopes ax and ιὰ political am-

bition of Alkibiad
Questions put by Sokratea, i in re-

iotended Panetion as adviser me
the Athenians. What does he
intend to advise them upon?
What has he learnt, and what
does heknow?.. ..

Alkibiades intends to advise the
Athenians on questions of war
and peace. Questions of So-
krates thereupon. We must
fight those whom it is better to
fight—to what standard does
better refer? To just and un-

just

How, or from ‘whom, has Alkibiades

learnt to discern or distinguish

Just and Unjust? He never

learnt it from any one; he
always knew it, even as a bo
Answer amended. Alkib

learnt it from the multitude, as

he learnt to speak Greek.—Tho

maltitude cannot teach just and

r they are at variance

nemselyes about it. Al-

to advise the

what he does
not know
Answer farther amended. "The

they <

poston ταῖς

and unjust. But

PaGE

neither does Alkibiades know
the e ient. He asks So-
krates to explain. Sokrates de-
clines: he can do nothing but
caltestion ee ‘th ee
mment on e " preceding
Sokratic method —the respon-
dent makes the discoveries for

Alkibiadies is brought to admit
that whatever is just, is ἔδει
honourable, e an
whoever acts honourably,
does well, and procures a
self happiness thereby.
vocal reasoning of Sokrates

Humiliation of

ignorant. But the~ rail
ponents, against whom
ades is to himself, are,
the kin rta and Persia.
Eulogistic description of those
kings. To match them, Alkibi-
ades must make himself as good
as possible.
But good—for what end, and under
what circumstances? (Abundant
illustrytive examples .. ..

liated, confesses his ignorance.
Enco ement given by So-
krates. It is an advan to
make such discorery in yo .-
Piston Disietio“it froct-appll
—its antici Θ
cable to the season of youth
Know Thyself—Delphian maxim
—its urgent importance—What
is myself? My mind is myself
I cannot know myself, except by

font:

ΣΑΙ δ.

PAGE

looking into another mind. Self-
knowledge is temperance. Tem-
rance and Justice are the con-
itions both of happiness and of
freedom .. .. .. .. «. «-
Alkibiades feels himself unworthy
to be free, and declares that he
will never quit Sokrates .. ..
Second Alkibiades—situation sup-
Danger of mistake in praying to
the Gods for gifts which may
prove mischievous. Most men
are unwise. Unwise is the
eneric word: madmen, a par-
Fcular variety under it.. .. ..
Relation between a generic term,
and the c terms compre-
hended under it, was not then
familiar

Frequent cases, in which men
ο

f benefi d
Bray deat hen obtained, they
are misfortan

ee. Ev one
fancies that he knows Ἢ is
beneficial : mischiefs of ignor-
ance ee ee ee ee eo ee ee
Mistake in predications about ig-
norance generally. We must dis-
criminate. orance of what?
Tgnorance of good, is always
ous: ignorance of other

not always... .. .. ..

are few.

- 16

OONTENTS OF VOLUME IL

Ῥ
The two dialogues may probably
be among Plato's earlier compo-

sitions .. .. .. .. 1. a.
Analogy with various dialogues in
the Xenophontic Memorabilia—
of Sokrates to humble

presam tuous youngmen .. ..
ess of the name and character

of Alkibiades for idealising this
featurein Sokrates .. .. ..
Plato’s manner of replying to the
accusers of Sokrates. agical
influence ascribed to the conver-
sation of Sokrates.. .. . ..
The proclaimed by So-
the Apology is followed

out in Aikibiades Warfare
against the false persuasion o
knowledge... .. .. .. .. ..
P'pose of bringing Aikibiades Loa
pose o es to ἃ
conviction of his own ignor-

to Justice and Virtue—
buat these are acknowledged In-
of Alkibiadés L—Ex-
treme multiplication of illustra-
tive examples—How explained
Alkibiadés leaves its problem
avowedly undetermined .. ..
krates commends the practice of
pra, to the Gods for favours
semi equine, Vieni Sirregulae
agency of the Gods—he prays
to them for premonitory warn-
Comparison of Alkibiadés II. with
the Xenophontic Memorabilia,
y the conversation of
So with Euthydemus. So-
krates not always consistent with
himself .

Su ble Abctrine of Aikibiad&:

without that the ke rej
a ow
other things nore hertfalthan
owledge of Good—appears
aT Yan
ea, un
The Good—the Profitable—what
is it?i—How are we to know it?
determined

Pilato leaves this un

AGE

CONTENTS OF VOLUME IZ.

CHAPTER XIII.

Hiprpras Masyor—Hiprras MInor.

Hippias or—situation su
PEharacte’ of the

ditlogue,
ppias

Real debate between the historical
Sokrates and Hippias in the
Xenophontic Memorabilia—sub-

as wall as, Grose, and the renown
as the gain acquired by

Hippies had had met with no success

ne his |
ata not Pet admit
—their law forbids ..
Question, What is law? The law-
makers always aim at the Profit-
able, but sometimes fail to at-
fail, they
fail to attain law. e lawful is
the Profitable: the Unprofitable
Comparison of the ” it of
mparison oO e argumen
the Platonic Sokrates with that
of the Xenophontic Sokrates ..
The Just or Good is the beneficial
rofitable. This is the only
tion which Plato ever
gives—and to this he does not
always adhere .
Lectures of Hippias at Sparta—not
upon geometry, or astronomy,

&., + but - τ, the Peat hifal ane,
ee a
ion pu
name of δ fond ἴῃ the back-
ΠΆΡΕ ΟΝ pho been
pozsling Bit with i ὡς What is

Hippias thinks. the question ‘easy
Justice, Wiedo Beat ty τ st each
ce, om, uty mu
be some What is Beauty,

or the Beau ? 1. ee
Hippias does not understand the
question. He answers by indi-

Stiek οἱ one particularly beautiful
uestior Sokrates—
Ose aie, We en
but each is beautiful only
by comparison, or under some

sometimes beautiful, sometimes
not beautifal ὦ Hi es

nd answer ppias—Gold,
‘is that by the presence of which
all things become beautiful—
scrutiny applied to the answer.
Complaint Hippias about

mint answer οἱ Hippias—ques-
tions upon it—proof given
it fails of universal application. .

Farther answers, suggested b
Sokrates —l. The Suit.

Pleasurable—that which is
i through the eye and

Objections to this last—What_ pro-
perty there common to both
sight and hearing, which confers
upon the pleasures of these two
senses the exclusive privilege of
beantifal?

37 | Answer — There "belonging to
each and to oth in
the pro Τα isnocuous
and profita: δ leasures —
this und ey are

This will not hold—the Profitable

that the ὁ beantifal is the
that it is

od — but this
declared ἢ

are
attempts to assign some general
concept...

Analogy between the explanations
those given by the Xenoptiontic
ose given by the Xenophontic

‘Sokragos in tire Memorat i .

Concludi thrust exchanged be-
tween Hippias and 80 .-
etoric Dialectic

Men who dealt with real lis, com

the ve and
1 philosophers

PAGE

PaG
Aggregates—abstract or

logical Aggregates Distinct
. istin

aptitudes requ by Aristotle

for the Dialectician .. .. ..

Antithesis of Absolute and Rela-

tive, here brought into debate

Plato, in regard to the Idea

᾿ Beaut oe eee we eke
or — characters and

veracious and straightforward
hero better than the mendacious
This te contested by Sokrates. The
veracious man and the menda-
cious man are one and the same
truly ch whe fs he who
e chooses, who

Cros t the kn wing.
᾿ 4., 0 man
—the ὃ man cannot make
sure of doing either the one or
the other .

falsely on a question

metic when he ch

of arith-

urpose,
does the like

he’

58 | Dissent and re ugnance of Hippias

CONTENTS OF VOLUME II.

PAGE

only by design, than that of one
who misses even when he in-
tends to hit .
Conclusion — t none but the
man can do evil wilfully:
e bad man does evil unwill-
ingly. Hippias cannot resist the
, but will not accept
the conclusion — Sokrates con-
fesses his perplexity .. .. ..
Remarks on the dialogue. If the
had been inverted, the
i logue would have been cited
by critics as a specimen of the
sophistry and corruption of the
Sophists .. .. .. .. 2. ὦ
Polemical p of the dialogue
— Hippias humiliated by
krates

Philosophical purpose of the dia-
logue—theory of the Dialogues
of Search generally, and of
Knowledge as understood by

The Hippias is an exemplification
of this theory—Sokrates sets
forth a case of confusion, and
avows his inability to clear it

up on — shown up in
e Lesser Hippias—Error in
the Greater "“ ἀἁ

The thesis maintained here by So-
kra is also by the
cal Sokrates in the Xeno-
phontic Memorabilia .. .. ..
Aristotle combats the thesis. Ar.

gumente against it . wee oe
Mistake of Sokrates and Plato in
exclusiv on
ἕο tae! cordate ey on the
τοπάπεὶ ΚΟ “hog the oe 8c
ey rely much on the anal
of the arte—they take
underlying the
and b.

will or not, is worse the t it shall b x before us
skilful, who can sing well πὶ different aspects of the questi
he ch bat can also sing under review .. .. δι ον “
᾿ badly when he chooses .. .. .. δ9] Antithesis between Rhetoric and
It is better to have the mind of a Dialectic .. .. .. 2. 2. ων
bowman who misses his mark
CHAPTER XIV.
Hreparceus—Mrnos.
estion — What is things worth nothing.

from
eehtatee cross-examines upon
this explanation. No man ex-

ib.

CONTENTS OF VOLUME II.

PAGE

Be ino gain from things which
knows to to be worth nothing :

this sense, no man is a lover

at gain..
Gain is ood. Every man loves
erefore men are
overs of gain .

Apparent contradiction. “Bokrates
accuses the companion of trying
to deceive him — accusation is

retorted upon Sokrates. .
inscribed formerly | by Bip-
us the Peisistratid—never
ivea friend. Eulogy of Hip-
us by Sokrates
allows the companion to
retract some of his answers, The

companion that some
in is good, other is evil ..
Questions by Sokra' bad gain

is cain, as much ae βορᾶ oat

the common prope
-in virtue of which both are

called Gain? Every acquisi-
tion, made with no outlay, or
with a smaller outlay, is gain.
Objections—the acquisition may
be. evil— embarrassment con-

fessed .
It is essential to that the
uisition made 8 be greater

not merely in quantity, but also
in value, than the outlay. The
valuable is the profitable—the
profitable is the good. Conclu-
sion comes back. That Gain is

Recapitulation. “The debate has
shown that all gain is good, and
that there is no evil gain —all
men are lovers of ταν ΕΝ whee
man ought to to
for being 50 th ion %

compell to admit this, hough he

declares that he is not Cersuad

Minos. Question put by Sokrates
to the companion, Ww,

or The Law? All law is the

same, quatenus law: what is the

common constituent attribute ?. .

. The conse-

ding customs.

The decree of the city. ἣν

cial or civic opinion...

tion by Sokrates—

absence of law. Law is
honourable and useful : law.

ness is ruinous. According!
bad decrees of the cit y
social opinion—cannot be law ..

PAGE

5 ion by Sokrates—Law is
@ good opinion of the city—
but opinion is true opinion,
or finding out of reality.
Law therefore wishes fends) to

e ding out o ity,

though i. Goce not always suc-
ceed in doing 580
Objection taken by the Comp
—That there great τὰ.
ance of laws in different places
—he specifies several cases of
such discordance at some length.

Sokrates reproves his prolixity,

and uests him to confine
question or areas Toa
Farther anestions b

Things heavy an ight "just
and unjust, Honourable: and dis-
honourable, &c., are so, and are
accounted go everywhere. Real
things are always accounted
the ‘real, falls in attaining the

e 8 e
lawful .

There are laws of health and of
cure, com y the few phy-
sicians wise upon those subjects,
and unanimously declared by
them. So also there are are
of farming, gardening, cooke
declared by the few wise
those respective pursuits. In
like manner, the laws of a city
are the judgments declared by
the few wise men who know
how to rule

That which is right is the "regal
law, the only true and real law
—that which is not right, is not

law, but onl seems to be law in
the. eyes of orant..
Minos, King of rete—his laws

were divine and excellent, and

Question about the “character of
Minos— Homer and Hesiod de-
clare him fo, have been edmir-
able, the c tragedians αἱ
fame him as a tyrant, because he
wasanenemyof Athens ..

That Minos was really admirable
—and that he has’ found ont

truth and reality respecting
administration of tie we
may be sure from the feel tha
his laws have remained 50 lone
unaltered .

The question ‘is made more deter-
minate — What is it that the

good lawgiver prescribes and
measures eat for the health of

x CONTENTS OF VOLUME II.

PAGE

the mind, as the physician mea-
sures out food and exercise for
_the body? Sokrates cannot tell.
The Hipparchus and Minos are
analogous to each other, and
both of them inferior works of

. PAGE
refuted. | Taw τοῖα, δὲ 8,
portion its meaning. ce

ess, usefulness, kc. Bad
ecrees are not laws

Sokrates affirms that law is every-

where the same—it is the de-
clared judgment and command

Plato, perhaps unfinished .. .. 82 of the Wise man upon the sub-
Hipparchus — double meaning of ject to which it refers—it is
φιλοκερδὴς and κέρδος .. .. -.- ὥ. th and reality, found out and
Btate οἱ mind οἵ ὁ agent, as to Roveninge pin ἐμοὶ ‘ihe Minos 87
ow. edge, uent inquiry in ο the 08
Plato. o tenable dofinition: is unsound, but Platonic The
found .. .. .. .. -. _. .. 88] Good, True, and Real, coalesce
Admitting that there is bad gain, in the mind of Plato—he ac-
as well as gain, what is knowl. nothing to be Law,
the meaning of the word pain? except what he thinks ought to
Noneisfound.. .. .. .. .. @® |] beIaw .. .. .. .. .. .. 88
Purpose of Plato in the dialogue— Plato worships the Ideal of his own
to lay bare the confusion, and mind—the work of systematic
to force the mind of the re- constructive theory by the Wise
spondent into efforts for clearing Man .. .. 1. «2 oe oe oe 89
itup .. .. .. ..- .. +. + 84] Different applications of this gene- .
Historical narrative and comments ral Platonic view, in the 08
ven in the dialogue res Politikus, Kratylus, &c. Natural
us-—-afford no groun Rectitade of Law, Government,
for declaring the dialogue to be Names, &e. .. .. .. 1. .. ὁ.
spurious ..... .. .. .. .. ὅδ. [ΕἘλπ] on Minos, as having esta-
Minos. Question — What is the blished laws on this divine type
characteristic propert connoted or natural rectitude .. .. .. 90
by the word Νόμος or law?.. .. 86/The Minos was arranged by Ari-
This question was discussed by the stophanes at first in a Trilogy
historical Sokrates, Memorabilia along with the Leges .. .. .. 91
of Xenophon ib. | Explanations of the word Law—

Definitions of law—suggested and

confusion in its meaning .. .. ἐδ.

CHAPTER XV.
THEAGEs.

Theagés—has been declared spu-
tious by some modern criticsa—
grounds for such opinion not
sufficient .. .. .. .. .. «-

Persons of the dialogue—Sokrates,

with Demodokus and Th

: m by which he can govern
freemen with their own con-
Incompetence of the best practical
stacoamen to each any one else.
u krates

Sokrates declares that he is ποῦ

99] orDemon.. .. .. .. .. «.
ὡ The Dsemon is favourable to some

100

Sokrates

Theagés exp

competent to teach — that he
knows nothing except about
matters of love. Theag&s main-
tains that many of his young
friends have profited y by
the conversation of Sokra .. 101
explains how this has
sometimes happened—he recites
his experience of the divine sign ὡ

persons, adverse to others. Ὁ
circumstance it depends how
ἴδ by the
des
improved .
him.. .. 102
be received tbe panicn of
ved as com
Sokrates -- 108

CONTENTS OF VOLUME I. x
PAGE PAGE
Remarks on the Theagés—analogy fault with other teachers, re-
Chief pocullarity of th Theagee | Salty of fin δ tale
of the ο an excuse for his
stress laid upon the dine sign refusal. ning An or furnishes
Pere Demon . 4%. | an excuse .. 106
into employs this divine sign here Plato does not always, nor in other
some explanation of cen aa th allude to the divine
the singularity and eccentrici e same way. Its cha-
of Sokrates, and of his uneq “ater and working essentially
influence upon different com- impenetrable. Sokrates a pri
ons ἐδ l person ee ae eas oe ee a.
sckrates, while continually finding
CHAPTER XVI.
ERASTS OR ANTERASTS RIVALES.

Erastes—subject and persons of the regular practitioners at
dialogue— dramatic introduction hand and no one P will call in the
seinteresting youths in the Pale- second-best man when he can

inem 111} have the regular practitioner .. 114
Tyo rival Basin of ony Piiplicnd of learned μα νὰ
Υ͂ Ἂν y Ρ on earn
—the other τὰ ἐδ hating ments . ον wed ib.
Potion ον Ἢ ib. | Βοκταῖθεβ ‘changes his course of
ion t by "Sokrates—What examination — questions put to

is philosophy It is the per- show that there is one of ad.

accumulation of know- art, regal and and diseriininatics

so as to make the largest tering
sumtotal .. ..... .. .. .. 12 the bad from the good στο . 116

In the case of the body, it is ποῦ In this art the. philosopher “must
the maximum of exercise which not only be second-best, compe-
does good, but the proper, mea- tent to talk—but he must be a

quantity. For the mind fully qualified practitioner, com-
also, it is not the maximum of tent to act ἐδ
knowledge, but ibe - measured ose of the dial gue humiliation
which is is 00d. ἘΠ Who of the literary 116
the judge to determine ted 1 meaniier of the
| ..00..ϑ 00 .. &.| dialogue ..

No answer given. What is the Defini on of philosophy — - here
best co ? Answer of the t for the first time—Pla-
Literary A man must to c conception of measure—
learn t which will yield. to referee not vered .. . 117
onl the test reputation as a View taken of the second-best

—as much as critical talking ran, as com
Pnable to talk like an intel- ‘with the special proficient and
ligent critic, though not to ractitioner .
.» .» 118|Plato’s view—that. the hilosopher
ne philosopher ἴα ‘is ‘one who is @ province himself,
eral different distinct from other ties—
arte—a Pentathius who talks - dimly: in —! or politi-
what occasions can such second- Philosopher—the supreme artis
best men be useful? There are controlling other artists»...
CHAPTER XVIL
Ion.
Persons of the dialogue Rhapsodes as a class in Greece.
Difference - inion among zhey competed for prizes at the
, modern crits as its genuine-- f vals. Ton has been trium- Ος

xl CONTENTS OF VOLUME II.
| PAGE PAGE
Functions of the Rhapsodes. Re- inspired by the Gods. Varieties
citation—exposition of the poets of madness, good and bad.. 129
—arbitrary 9 tion of the Special inspiration from the Gods
poets was then uent -- 125] was a familiar in Grecian
The he popular larity of the Rhapsodes life—privileged communications
efly derived from their from the Gods to Sokrates—

recitation” “powerful ἐ effect which

Ion res reciter and expositor—
Homer was considered more as
an instractor than as a poet

Plato disregards and disapproves
the poetic or emotional working

Ion devoted himself to Homer ex-
clusively. Questions of Sokrates
to him—How happens it that
you cannot talk equally u ly upon
other poets? The poetic is
one

Explanation ‘given by Sokrates—
both the Rhapsode and the Poet
pork not by art and system, but

y divine inspiration—fine poets

Oy, bereft of their reason, and
possessed by inspiration from
someGod ..

Anal of the “Magnet, which
holde up b Dee The successive
fi

inepire Hon ΓΑ act

through him and through Ion
eauditors .. ..

n forms the central

the rec It is an

ent de-
+ oudgmen ge.

nic” Antithesis: systematic
procedure | distinguished | from
unsystematic: w. was
either blind routine, or madness

. ἐδ Condithe οὶ ‘the ing ired - 1
. ni mn 0 Θ
reason is for the dl person

Wh... .. .. 181
196 | Ion does not admit himself to be
inspired and out of his mind .. 182
Homer talks upon all subjects—Is
Ion competent to explain what
Homer says upon of them?
Rhapsodic art. What is ite pro-
mince ?.. a tka
e Rhapsode oes no ow spe-
cial matters, such as the craft of
the pilot, physician, farmer, &.,
but he knows the business of the
com tent to

learnt
Conclusion. Ion expounds ‘Homer,
not with any knowl onep wns
he says, but by di

tion.
The "generals in Greece eee
no professional expe-
rience — Homer and the poets
were talked of the

me is
peel ne Plato’s "view of the
pretendi to know
everything, but knowing
129 Knowle to divine in-
Gn wit out knowl .. 186
πἰπείειίου οἱ οὗ Plato’s opinion re-
specting the casniess of writ-
ten geometrical trea oe

CHAPTER XVIIL

LTachés. Subject and ns of
the ΣΕ two youn it is
useful Ὁ yo
should receive lessons a from ἃ

master of arms. Nikias
Lachés differ in opinion os
Sokrates is invited to declare his
point cannot replies that the

é3 submit to be
ed by Sokrates

LACHES.

Both of them give infons οὔ.
acco eir feelings
cours on the α pei ry
the question shall
5 Soba » and e
w | Appeatot Sol ert eaten to the jadgines t
en
Wise Man—this man
τ ΡΟ ΟΡ Τα ΑΕ identified oo oe 142
δ. 0 We must know what virtue is, be- -
fore we give an on on edu-
cation—virtue, as a whole, is too
large a question—we enquire
}} about come branch of virtoe—

141 Question — what’ is courage?

"141

CONTENTS OF VOLUME II.

PAG
Laches answers by citing one
particularly manifest case of

courage—mistake of not giving |
a general explanation .. .. 143

Second answer. Courage is a sort
of endurance of the mind—So-
krates pointe out that the answer
is e and incorrect—endur-
ance is not always courage: even
intelligent endurance is _not
always co

Intelligence—the in ence of
things terrible and cae 2
f Lachés

ons of Sokrates to Nikias.

PAGE
therefore as

8 definition of
courage 146
Pema a aetare of Bokrates
e pe on o
knowl . Brave fenerals de-
liver opinions confidently about
courage without knowing wha

it is
No solution ¢ ven by Piato—ap.
parent tendency of his mind,
ooking for a solution. Intelli-
gence — cannot be understood

without reference to some object

end ..
Objects supplied in the answer
Nikias. Intelligence — of
terrible and not terrible.

. 147

It is only future events, not Such in ce is not pos-

or present, which are terrible ; sessed by professional artists 148
but intelligence of future events Postulate 0 δι Science | of ‘Ends, or

cannot be had without intelli- “dimly in ted by

gence of pastor present .. 145 Unknows Wise Man

Courage therefore must be intelli- Peorelates with the undisco-
gence of of good and evil | generally. vered Science of Ends .. i.

tion would include Perfect condition of the intelli-

the whole of virtue, and we ence—is the one sufficient con-
declared that courage was was onl tion of virtue « eo ee 149

a part thereof—it will not ho. contrast between. Lachés
and Sokrates, as cross-examiners 150

CHAPTER XIX
CHARMIDES.

Scene and personages of the dia-
logue. Crowded paleestra. Emo-
tions of Sokrates . 168

rmnides. Answer,
ταῖς τὰ of sedateness or

What good does self-know!l
procure for us? What is
object known, in this case ἢ An-
swer: There is no object of
knowledge, distinct from the
knowl iteelf

oubts the 5

Sokrates
any knowledge, wi riot a gan

Bat Tem emperance is # fine or ho- cognitum as its
nourable thing, and slowness is, to rove that Eaeemiedge of rah
in many or most cases, not fine is impossible. .
or honcarable, but the contrary. all knowledge. must be relative to
Temperance cannot be slow- some object .. 157
oe .. % |All perties are relative—every
Second answer. ' “Tem ce isa in nature "with referonc
variety of the feeling of shame. erence
Refuted by Sokrates . .. δ.) to oe oe we BD
Third answer. Tem nce con- Even if cogni n of cognition were
sists in doing one’s own busi- e, cognition of non-cogni-
ness. Defe y Kritias. So- we be impossible. A
a riddle, man may know what he knows,
and refutes it. Distinction but he cannot know what he is
and ἃ 155 orant of. He knows the fact
Fourth answer, by Kritias. Tem- he knows: but he does not
consists in self-know- know how much he knows, and
ΝΕ ἐδ.} how much he does not know .. 158
s of Sokrates thereupon. Temperance, ore, 88 de-

χὶν

PaG
fined, would be of little or no

But even granting the bility
of that which has just been de-
Temperance would be

ote value. Suppose that all

: pa aan » work were well per-
‘orm: special oners
re shoul not ittsln our end—

piness.. .. ..
Whine of the varieties of know-
ledge contributes most to well-
doing or happiness? That by

we know good and evil ..
Without the science of and
evil, the other science

will be of little or of no service.
Temperance is not the science
of {ood and evil, and is of little

Sokrates confesses to entire failure
in his research. He cannot find
out what temperance is: although

several concessions have

made which cannot be ustified. . ®.

“Tilng: be is and must
: but Charmides canno tell
rer he is temperate or not;
what temperance is remains
upkmown .. .. .. « «+ ον
Expressions both from Charmides
and Kritias of praise and devo-
tion to Sokrates, at the close of
the dialogue. "Dramatic orna-
ment throughout .. ..
The Charmides is an excellent spe-
cimen of Dial of Search.

Analogy between Lysis and Char-
mides. Richness of dramatic
incident in both Youthful
beauty... .. 2. «2 22 ee oe

Scenery and personages of the

Origin of the conversation. So-
krates to give an ex-
ante οἱ the proper way of talk. |

Conversation οἱ Sokratos τ
Sokrates with

Con a,
Lysis is humiliated. ὦ " Distress of

. 177
Lysis entreate Sokrates to talk in ὦ.

the like strain to Menexenus
Valen of the first conversation be-
tween Sokrates and Lysis, as an

ἐδ. |-
Carnie 3 and Temp

CONTENTS OF VOLUME IL

PAGE

tives, all ultimately disallowed. .
Trial and Error, the natural pro-
cess of the human mind. Plato

mental

168

sciousignorance .. .. .. .. 164

with much earnest feel: y used
never understood nor defined—
ordinary phenomenon in human

ty
Different ethical points of view in
different Platonic dialogu
Be στον b
In other. dial ues, § 8.
clares self-knowl:

for the student to have
to him dissentient poin

Courage and Tem: ceareshown
to have no ct meaning, ex-
cept as founded on the
tinction good and e oe

Distinction made between the spe-
cial sciences and the science of
Good and Evil. Without this
last, the special sciences are of
nouse.. .

resen
of view

, always relative to some

Knowledge, alm Postulate or di-
rination of a Science of Teleo-

handled
bol by Faia tad by Arete
Comparison between the two ..

Sokratic manner .. .
Sokrates begins to examine Me-
nexenus endship.
Who is to be a friend?
Qunetions address to ee ** Ap-

uestions
peal to thre maxims of poets.
is the friend of like. Can-

m of Bokisiee, He : ug
ane nor evi) is rind to

CONTENTS OF VOLUME 11.

PAGE

Su canvassed. If the In-

erent is friend to the Good,
it is determined to become so
pric contact of felt evil, from

‘Amabile or object o: y
dear to us, per as: τὸ relath n or
resemblance to which other ob-

. 180

hots become dear ἐδ
6 cause of love is desire. We
desire that

which is akin to us
—orourown ..

Good is of a nature akin to every

one, evil is alien to every one.

PaGe
y real. Assumptions made
oy the Platonic Sokrates, ques-
onable, such as the real So-
krates would have found reason

for challer

eculiar th cory about friendship

broached b Persons

neither nor evil by na

yet ha a superficial tinge o

evil, and de esiring good to escape
m

This general theory ‘illustrated by
the “ca: case of the philosopher or
lover of wisdom. -con-
sciousness of ignorance the attri-
bute of the philosopher. Value
set by Sokrates an an Plato upon
this te .

attribu
Another theory of Sokrates. The
Primum Amabile, or o
and nd primary object of Love. Par-

previously laid down .. .. 188 objects are loved through
Failure of the enquiry. Close of with this. The object
the is Good 191
Remarks. o positive re result. So- Statement by Plato of the general
kratic purpose. in analysing the law of mental association .. .. ibd.
familiar words—to expose the Theory of the Primum Amabile,
false persuasion of knowl .. ἐδ. here introduced by Sokrates,
Subject of of Lysis. Suited for a with numerous derivative objecta
logue.of Search. . Manner of 80- oflove. Platonic I Generic
multi ing defective ex- communion fon of Aristotle, ἰδία,
wing reasons guished b from the feebler
Thy each defective... .. . enalogical communion .- ee
The of trial. and error is primase Amabile ‘of Plato, com-
illustrated by a search _ pared with the Prima Amicitia
without result than with result. of Aristotle. Each of them is
Usefulness of the head of an analogical aggre-
self-working min not member of @ generic
by. the of friendship, handled both y.. 194
the Xenophontic Sokrates, The Good and "Beautiful, cousi-
by - | dered as objects of attachment... id.
pebate the Lysis partly verbal,
CHAPTER XXI
EvTHYDEMUS.
Dramatic and comic exuberance of Wherein it does consist .. 199

the Euthydémus. Ju te of
hyde dgmen

The two us and

Abuse of fallacies by the Sor phiste

195; —their bid for the a; lause
-- δ} ofthe ‘bystanders PP &

Comparison, of | of ihe _Enthydémus

Necessity of ccttling Scctints with
the tive, before we venture
upon ve, is common

affirmati
to both : in the one the
and serious; in the

vulgarised and nde ΟῚ
198 | Opinion οἵ Stallbaum and other

xvi CONTENTS OF VOLUME IL
rage PAGE
qitics, about, the Eutnydémus, ΟἹ shown by the two So-
that Euthydémus and Dionyso- phists in their replies—determi-
dorns represent the way in which bation not to contradict them-
Protagoras and to βρῖτεα.. ς ΠῚ το ae ee os ME
thelr τον ΕΈΡ ἀρὰ 80. 302 Farther verbal eqelvocstions - Ὁ.
‘That opinion founded. jet invol Topical
rater ‘waa much more Rei rineplescontradicaon, an
than ‘who generally le—To speak false
Tanltoned uimeeif byCcontiaw | fmpossitie.. Po TO Δ τς
‘ous speech oF lecture . @.| Plato's Euthydémus is the earliest
Sokrates in the Euthydémus is known attempt to set ont and
drawn suitably to the purpose of expose fallades—the ‘only way
The two Bephiais 1 tig wathy: "| plify Me Sallacy ὉΥ particular
wo or
Saas eens - κα ie Δ 1}
‘or vee rove yw. alin
Of real persons -- sce: 304} falseandabsurd .. .. .. .. 216
Colloquy of Sokrates with Kleinias Mistake of suppot fallacies to
atlas alas wo od fast by Athenian, Bop
erent inadvertencies
But liabilities to error, in the
ΕΣ or ordinary process of 4
ΓΞ a Ane Pot Wormald te affords the bet ae
making of what means of correcting them...
Ao gat eof when mad .. 205| Wide-spread prevalence of erro-
Where fs sush an art to o found ἢ ‘Deous belied, misguided by one
‘The regal or ‘art looks or other of these fallacies, at-
like it ; but wi does this art δ᾿ τοι Bokraten, Plato, Bacon,
do for'us? No answor can be &c,,—complete enumeration
found. Endsinpumle .. .. 306] heads of fallacies by Mill ..
πο αὐτο τα by Seksates Itis oe ae im Ce nating fal-
very fa the mind || lncies ae sso 221
upon what to look for... .. .. 4
‘The: ‘stings anawer found
jn the Protagaras as 28
icniealy ef wis
it is going on, is shown st the i
τεσ «|b eae
ae οἱ
(staken representations aboutthe | by opponents Conversation be.
Sophiste—Aristotle's definition tween Sokrates and Kriton.. 228
πο ble line can be | Altered tone in speaking of Euthy-
drawn between the Sophist and ‘démus—Disparagement of per-
we pete ee sons half-philosophers, balf-poli-
Philosophical purpose ofthe Eau- παν 5
‘thydémus— exposure of fallacies, Kriton asks Sokrates for advice
‘manner, ‘about the education of his sons
—Sokrates cannot recommend a
teacher—tells him to search for
phitiiel ia ες ἀρ xe. Ἔ
thydémus is bors as re.
nm Presentative of Dialectic aod τς
who ite 1 Be pera, ar inna
Ὁ alf-philosopher, half-
Politician ? re Petsokntee τς 2
/Yeciable Seating secrete times,
‘between Plato and Isokrates .. 28

CONTENTS OF VOLUME IL

CHAPTER XXIL.

like an electric shock—Sokrates
replies oa that he is himself in the
same state.of confusion and

ignorance. He continu-

ance of search by both ..

But how is the pe of search
available to any ? No
man searches for + he already

knows: and for what he does
not know, it is useless to search,
for he cannot tell when he has
foundit .. oe

eemniten ac-
quired in a former life, ut for-

ledge of tits εἰ ed Ὁ τι
ma v

nections in the mind of 8. man

untaught. Sokrates

questions the alave of Menon ..

Rae oe — Whether

le? ῖ pithout
determining w virtue ee
Virtue is know.

aie Phe ee gts
or
ep made i

ance of kne

4b.

XVil

PAGE

MENON
PAGE
Persons of the Dialogue os oe 439 Virtue, as being knowledge, must
Question put by Menon—Is virtue be .teachable. . Yet there are
teachable ? krates confesses opposing reasons, showing that
that he does not know what it cannot be teachable. No
virtue is. Surprise of Menon .. ἐδ} teachers of itcanbefound .
Sokrates stands alone in this con- Conversation of Sokrates with
fession. Unpopularity entailed Anytus, who detests the So-
by it 433 phists, and affirms that any one
Answer of Menon— lurality of of the leading politicians can
virtues, one belo each teach virtue
different class and , ondigen. Confused state of the discussion.
Sokrates enquires for the pro- No way of acquiring virtue is
perty common toallofthem .. {.| shown.. .
us cases cited—definitions Sokrates modifies his premisses—
of and colour .. knowledge is not the only thing
Importance at that time of bring. which guides to good results—
ing into conscious view, lo ht opinion will do the same ..
su on and distin Rig t opinion < cannot be relied on
—Neither logic nor grammar or staying in the mind, and can
had then been cast into i. | never give rational e tions
Definition of virtue given by nor teach others—g practical
Menon: So s it to. statesmen receive right | asm
pieces . oo ae © 956 by inspiration from
Menon complains that the conver- All the real virtue that there is, is
sation of Sokrates confounds him

ἢ δῖ ΚΑ] τὐσύμο special i inspira-
tion from the Godan P

} But what virtue iteelf i is, remains

order for
ferent topics, is pointed - out
by Sokrates.
Mischief of debating ‘ulterior and
secondary questions when the
notions and word
are unsettled

Doctrine of Sokrates in the Menon
—desire of good alleged to be
universally felt—in what sense
this istrue_....

Sokrates requires knowledge as the
princi condition of virtue,

oes not determine—know-
lorie. of what?

Subject of Menon ; same as that of

Pro ras — diversity of
badling to is not anxious
to fottle a question and get rid

Anxiety ‘of Plato to ‘keep
and aca | the spirit: ο

unknown ..
Remarks on the dialo; ΜΝ Pro er
be dinlogu the

up
Te-

hilosophers—cri-
fovion ronan trat. Fe Wherein con-

. 239

ἐδ.

245

sists the Process of verifica- —

tion? .. 0. 6. oe ewe

XvVill CONTENTS OF VOLUME II.

PAGE PAGE
None of the philosophers were sa- Little or nothing is said in the
tisfied with the answer here made Menon about the Platonic Ideas
by Plato—that verification con- orForms ..
sists in appeal to pre-natal expe ὰ What Plato meant by Causal Rea-
rience .. inowlodge distinction between
Plato’s view of the immortality of kno

eand right opinion .. ἐδ.
the soul—difference between This tection com’ with
the 9 Menon, Pheedrus, and Phe- mnden hilosophical views .. 254
. 249 on of Anytus—intense
Doctrine of Piato; that new truth Mntioech to the 80 phists and to
may be elicited. Py emilfal exa; skilful exa- qpptilosop y gen
mination out of enemy of Sokrates is also the

mind—how ter one re oe oe ὃ. enemy of the sophiste—practical
Plato’s doctrine about ἃ priori tesmen 256
reasonin ifferent from the The Menon " brings forward the
modern doctrine os oe oe 261 t of analogy between So- .
Plato’s theo about ‘pre-natal ex- tes and the Sophists, in which
6 took no pains to both were disliked by the prac-

and measure the ex- tical statesmen. . oe @e ee ee 257

aacertain
tent of post-natal experience .. 252
CHAPTER XXIIL

PROTAGORAS.
Scenic ent and person- Mythe. First fabrication of men
ages of the ogue .. .. 259 the Gods. Prometheus and
Introduction. Eagerness of the Epime theus. Bad distribution
you to become endowments to man by the

thful
acquainted with Protagoras . 260; latter. It is partly amended Ὁ
Prometheus y

purpose expectations Prometheus gave to mankind skill
from Pro ras... .. .. &| for the app of individual
Danger of going to imbibe the in- wants, but d not give them
struction of a Sophist without the social art. are on
knowing beforehand what he is the point of ppoTishing, when
about toteach.. .. .. .. .. 262| Zeus sends to them the disposi-
Remarks on the Introduction. tions essential for society . 268
False on of knowledge Frotagoras follows up his mythe by
brought to t .. 2. o 0. 268] 8 Justice and the
Sokratesand krates go to the sense of shame are not ὁ profes.
house of pany sional attributes, but are pos-
therein. Kespect shown to seased by all citizens and taught
Protagoras.. .. .. .. .. .. 204] byalltoall
Questions of Sokrates to Prota- Constant natant teaching of ‘virtue. The-
goras. Answer of the latter, ory of 270
daring | the antiquity of the Why ent =n cannot make
sophistical profession, and_ his theirsonseminent.. .. ....
own openness in avowing him- Teng ΝΗ parents, schoolmaster,
self a sophist 4. | -harpist, laws, dikastery, &c. .. ἐδ.
Protagoras prefers to converse in All learn virtue from the same
presence of the assembled com- teaching by all. Whether a
pany .. .. .. .. «. .. 0. 266} learner shall acquire more or
of. He in- less of it, depends 5 upon his own oe
tends to train young men as nslogy οἱ oarain
virtuous citizems .. .. .. .. @. Analogy of learning vernaculaz Σ
Sokrates doubts whether virtue is G special teacher
teachable. Reasons for such teaches
doubt. is to virtue somew better than
SEE ot Protagoran - eee we oe

CONTENTS OF VOLUME IL.

PAGE

Remarks upon the mythe and dis-
course. lain the man-
ner in whi e established
sentiment of a community ro-

nitneeis of Brotagoras and So- ae

Whether virtue is to be

ara oe ated toa art..
Procedure of So in to
the discourse Pro ras—he

compliments it as an exposition,

and analyses some ¢ of the funda-

One’ puree assum mptions oe

the dialog 8. To
One rast continuous urse
with short cross-e ques-
tion and answer

Questions by Sokrates — Whether
virtue is one and indivisible, or

composed of different ?
Whether the parts are homo-
Wrenpous | or heterogeneous ? .

justice is just, and holi-
ness Pon ? How far ce is
like holiness pro-
teste np an answer, “If you

lease ”

In ence and moderation are

iden ical, Δ, because they have the |,

same contrary
Insufficient reasons given by So-
He seldom cares to dis-
different

the same term .
Pro
irri
ἔων - es,
is, to test
opinions and not persons. Pro-

lixt
. Ramoustrance οἵ Sokrates
1 answers as inconsisten ri
the laws of Pro
Inbertonios of Kallias to get the
LS
clares Protagoras ought to
acknowledge superiority of

276

ib.

of
a.
ras is puzzled, i and. becomes 920

answers with angry pro- =
Sokrates rises to depart 281

of So-
-. 382

Long h of Sokrates, expound.
ne, the urpose of the son. , and
own an ironical th eory

atoul the numerous ere

its general

ΤΣ to a parpooe. "aire con

-_ tinuous speech...

Sokrates depreciates the value of
debates on the poets. Their
meaning is always disputed, and
you can never ask from them-
selves what it is. Protagoras
consents reluctantly to resume
the task of answe

Purpose of Sokrates “sift αἰ.
culties which he really feels in
his own mind. Importance of a
colloquial companion for this

urpose

The i interrupted debate is resumed.
Protagoras says that courage
differs materially from the other
branches of virtue .

Sokrates argues to prove ‘that cou-
rage consists in knowledge or

lligence. Protagoras does not

admit this. Sokrates changes his

attack .
Identity of the le with
e good—o e painf t
the evil. Sokrates maintains it.
Protagoras denies. Debate .
Enquiry about knowledge. Is it
the dominant agency in the
mind? Or is it overcome fre-
quently by other Ἢ cies, Plea”
sure or pain agree
Mistake of supposing that τὰ
e supposing men act
contrary knowled We
never call pleasures evi , except
when they entail a & preponder-
ance of pain, or ppoint-
ment of ter pleasures -
Pleasure is the only good—pain
the only evil. No man does evil
voluntarily, knowing it to be
evil. Difference between plea-
sures present and future—re-
solves iteelf into pleasure and
Necessary resort to the measuring
art for choosing pleasures rightly
—all the security of our lives
di d upon it
To do wrong, overcome by. plea-
sure, is only a hrase for
describing what is y a case
of grave ignorance .. ce 0s ee

xix

PAGE

284

. ἐδ
pleasurable with

. 289

290

201

- 292

293

PAGE
Reasoning of Sokrates assented to

by all. Actions which conduct

to pleasures or freedom from pain,

are honourable 295

Explanation of co age. It con-
sists in a wise estimate of things
terrible and not terrible . ἐδ.

CONTENTS OF VOLUME IL

PAGE
borné out by the dialogue. He
stands on the same ground as
the common consciousness.. ..

Aversion of Protagoras for dia-
lectic. Interlude about the song
of Simonides .. .. .. .. ..

Ethical view given by Sokrates—

Reluctance of Protagoras to con- worked out at length clearly.
tinue answering. Close of the Good and evil consist in right
discussion. Sokrates_ declares or wrong calculation of pleasures
that the subject is still in con- and pains of theagent.. .. .. ὥ.
fusion, and t he wishes to Protagoras is at first opposed to
debate it again with Protagoras. thistheory. .. .. ..° .. .. 306
Amicable reply of Protagoras .. 207 | Reasoning of Sokra os se oe 807

Remarks on the dialogue. It closes Application of that reasoning to
without the least allusion to Hip- e case of courage.. .. .. .. τ.
pokrates .. .. .. .. -. ὡς 208|The theory which Plato here lays

Two distinct of ethics and down is more distinct and spe-
politics exhibited: one under cific than any theory laid down

he name of Protagoras; the in other dialogues .. .. .. .. 808
other, under that of Sokrates .. 399: Remarks on the theory here laid

Order of ethical problems, as con-
ceived by Sokrates.. .. .. -.. ὃ.
Difference of method between him
and Protagoras flows from this
difference of order Pro
assumes what virtue is, without

enquiry .. .. .. oe ον ὦ.
Method of Pro ras. Continu-
ous lectures ad to esta-

blished public sentiments with
which he is in harm . 801

down by Sokrates. It is too nar-

row, and exclaaively pradential 809
Comparison with the Republic .. 810
The urse of Protagoras brings
out an important part of the

whole case, which is omitted in

the analysis by Sokrates .. ..
The Ethical End, as implied in the

discourse of Protagoras, involves

a direct regard to the pleasures
and pains of other persons be-
sides the agent

811

812

that part of the problem which Plato's reasoning in the dialogue is
Protagoras had leftout.. .. . . | not clear or satis ry, espe-
Antithesis between the eloquent cially about co -- «. 818
and the Doctrine of Stallbaum and other
examiner .. .. .. .. .. =. critics is not correct. That the
Protagoras not intended to be analysis here i to So-
always in the wrong, though he krates is not intended by Plato
is described as brought to a as serious, but as a m of
contradiction .. .. .. ... .. thesopbists .. .. .. .. .. 314
tion of ras about Grounds of that doctrine. Their
is affirm by Plato insufficiency .. -. .. .. .. 816
elsewhere .. .. .. .. ἐδ. | Subject is professedly still left
The harsh epithets applied by unsettled at the close of the
critica to oras are not dialogue .. .. .. .. «- .. 816
CHAPTER XAIV.
GorGLas.
Persons who debate in the Gor- The Rhetor uces belief with-
Celebrity of the historical out know Upon what
.- «ae we matters is he competent to ad-
in uctory the | .. ων ον κρὸ νρ ὦ
Polus and Kallikiés.. $18 | The Rhetorcan persuade the people
of Sokrates in questioning. upon any matter, even against
Conditions of a 4b. e opinion of the special expert.
Questions about the definition of He appears to know, among the

Rhetoric. It is the artisan of
persuasion

es ee - 819!) Gorgias is now made to contradict

CONTENTS OF VOLUME II.

RAGE

᾿ himself. Polus takes up the ‘de-
krates $21

bate with Sokra
Polemical tone of Sokrates. At
the instance of Polus he gives
his own definition of rhetoric.
It is no art, but an empirical
knack of ca’ for the imme-
diate pleasure of hearers, ana-
logous to cookery. It is a branch
under the gen neral head flattery
Distinction between the true arts
which aim at the good of the
body and mind—and the counter-
feit arts, which pretend to the
reality aim at im-

Questions of Polus. Sokrates de-
nies that the Rhetors have any
power, because they do no-

thane which they really wish

All men wish for what is food

them. Despots and Θ
when the any one, do so
because they think it οὶ ἴον for
them. If it Tbe really not g
do not do wha they” oar

for
tors,

therefore have no real power 824

Comparison of Archelaus, usurp-
despot of Macedonia—Polus
nifese hat Archelaus is happy,

- and that every one thinks so—
Sokrates admits that every one
so, but nevertheless

denies it ..
Sokrates maintains—1. That it is

to er That if a
man has done wrong, it is better
for him to be pu ed than to

825

upunished 826
Sokrates offers proot—Definition

of Pulchrum and Turpe—Proo:
of the first point .. oe
Proof of the second point se ae
The criminal labours under a men-
painfal [8 ce ital evil’ ἡ τῳ
aca e -

- ment is the only cure for him.
᾿ To be punished is best for

een the Despot who is : 8
who is never
pula If our friend has
One Wrong, We, ught to get

enemy,

him
we ought to keep him un-

829
Argument tot Sokrates paradoxical
bt expressed by Kallikl

Kalliklés

. 880

Peculiar view taken by Plato of”
Good—Evil—Happiness_..

Contrast of the usual meaning of
these words, with the Platonic
meaning .

Examination of the " proof ‘given
by Sokrates—Inconsistency be-
tween the general answer of
Polus and his previous declara-
tions—Law and Nature...

The definition of Pulchrum and

Turpe, given b by Sokrates, » will

Worse or better—for’ whom? The
argument of Sokrates does not
specify. If understood od in the
sense necessary for erence
the definition would be inad-
missible

$28 | Plato applies to every one a stan-

dard of happiness and misery
peculiar to himself. His view
about the conduct of Archelaus
is just, but he does not give the
true reasons forit....
If the reasoning of. Plato ‘were
true, the point of view in which
unishment is considered would
reversed
Plato pushes too far the analogy
between mental distemper and
bodily distemper—Material dif-
ference between the two—Dis-
temper must be felt by the dis-
Kallilies begins to argue against
Sokrates—he takes a distinction
between Just by Law and Just
by nature—Reply of Sokrates,
that there is no variance be-
tween tt the two, properly under-

What Kalliklés sa 3 is not to be
taken as ἃ sample e of the teach-
of Athenian sophists. Kal-

ΧΧῚ

ib.

832

-- 334

. 885

Ἢ és—rhetor and politician 839

Uncertainty of refe: to Natare
as an authority. t may be
pleaded in favour of opposite
likiés is made to appear repal

e to appear -
sive by the Janguage in in which |
he expresses it.

Sokrates maintains that self-com. τς
mand and moderation is requi-
site for the strong man as well
as for others. és defends
the negative ..

Whether { the largest measure of

esires is good for a man, pro-
vided he has the means of 1 satis.
fyingthem? Whether all va-
rieties of desire are good?

|
;
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i

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4
ἕ
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é

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i

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i
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The Athenian

CONTENTS OF VOLUME IL. xxiii

. ” PAGE PAGE
without the indiscriminate cross- same as that which Plato con-
examination pursued by Sokrates 867} ceived . 371

Importance of maintaining the Bhetoric was employ νὰ at Athens
utmost liberty of discussion. »oppealing to the various

Tendency of all ruling orthodoxy ed sentiments and opie
towardsintolerance .. .. 368 sions. Erroneous inferen
Issue between philosophy and rhe- raised by the Kalliklés of Plato 878

toric—not actorily handléd The Platonic Idéal exacts, as good,

by Plato. Injustice done to some order, system, discipline.
rhetoric. Igavble manner But order may be directed to
which it is presented by ἊΣ bad ends as well as to good.

Kalliklés . 8690] Divergent ideas about virtue 814

διὰ
Perikles would have accepted the How to discriminate the right
defence of rhetoric, as P has order from the wrong. Pilato
put it into the mouth of of Gorgias 370 ri not advise us 87
people Gorgias u holds the inde-
distinction be ween the pleasur Mpendones. κα ity of the

able and the good: but not the ting philosopher... ..
CHAPTER XXV.
PHZDON.
The Phzedon is affirmative and ex- into the bodies of different ani-
we se ee ee ee + 877} mals. The philosopher alone is

Situation and circumstances as- relieved from all communion

sumed in the Phzdon. Pathetic with body 387

interest which they ey inspire i. | Special privilege’ claimed for phi-
Simmias and Kebés, the two collo- losophers in the Phedon apart

cutors with Sokrates. Their from the virtuous men who are

f and those of Sokrates .. 878| not philosophers .. 388
Emp of Sokrates in insisting Simmias and Kebés do not admit

on freedom of debate, active readily the unwilling of the

exarcine | of reaso and inde- goul, but but το unwilling ; ao

ent judgment for each rea- or roof.
ner. Tusbated haterest of So

879
Anxiety of Sokrates that his friends rational debate __...
shall be on their guard against Simmias and Kebés believe fully in
ri

being influenced by his authority the re-existence of of the 5 ut
—that they shall follow only the not in its
convictions of theirown reason 380] trine—Tha' the Tot ἴδε a sort of
Remarkable manifestation of ear- harmony—refuted by Sokrates ..
nest interest for reasoned truth Sokrates unfolds the. intellectual
and the liberty of individual es or wanderings through
dissent 881 his mind had passed.. .. 891
Phedon and Symposion—points First. doctrine of Sokrates as to
of analogy and contrast .. .. 882| cause. Reasons why he rejected
Phsedon— compared with Republic it .
and Timeus. No recognition of Second doctrine. "Hopes ‘raised by
tho tri le or lower souls. Anti- the treatise of Anaxagoras.. ..
thesis between soul and bod 883 | Disappointment because Anaxago-
Different doctrines of Plato about ras did not follow out the op-
the soul. Whether all the three timistic principle into .
souls are immortal, or the ra- Distinction between causes effi-
tional soul alone 885; cient and causes co-efficient .. 804
The lifo and character of α philo, | Sckrates could neither trace, out
er is a le Θ op ς ciple for
emancipate his soul from his self, nor fin find any teacher th
Death alone enables him He renounced it, and embraced
toa this com letely .. .. .. 886 a third doctrine about cause .. 806
of the ordinary or unphilo- He now assumes the separate ex-

sophical men pass after death istence of ideas. These ideas are

Xxiv

PAG
the causes why particular objects

manifest certain attributes... .. 306

Procedure of Sokrates if his bh

hical changes in
urned upon ‘ifferent

aoe as to a true cause ib
Problems and difficulties of which
Sokrates first. sought solution ..
Expectations entertained by So-
Kratos fromtne the treatise of Anaxa-
disappointment. His
rae Lion between causes and

Sokratos iter tes to > Anaxagoras

the mistake of substituting phy-
sical agencies in place of mental.

This is the same which Aristo-
phanes | and others imputed to

The supposed. theory 7 οἷ.

399

. 400

- 401

CONTENTS OF VOLUME IL.

PAGE
. It cannot re-
other words,
413.

essentially livi

ceive dexth :

itis immortal .
The proof of immortality ‘includes

vas well as

man—also the metempeychosis
or translation of the soul from
one body toanother..
After finishing his proof that the
soul is immortal, krates enters’
into a description, what will be-
come of it after the death of the
He describes a Nexvia ..
that his soul is
Gong aes al bate
ply n about burying
his bod

Preparations for administering the
hemlock Sympathy. of the '
ler. Equanimity of Sokrates ib.

Sokrates swallows the poison. Con-
versation with the gaoler .. .. 417
Ungovernable sorrow of the friends
resent. Self-command of So-
Erates. Last words to Kriton,

414

415-

416

ras cannot be carried out, either and death .. . ὁ).
by Sokrates himself or any one Extreme thos, and " probable
else. 80 Sokrates turns to general trustwo ess of these personal

words, and adopts the theory of details .. 419
ana ΜΝ 403 Contrast between pies. ‘Platonic

ve jdissen en ‘meanings pology an e Phedon .. .. id.
age 8 the word Cause. Abundant dogmatic and poetical
That is εἷς cause, to each man, invention o Phedon com-
which gives satisfaction to his pared with the profession of ig-
inquisitive feelings norance which we read in the

Dissension and nd pe lexity on, the Apology . oe se 421
question.—What is a cause? re- Total renunciation and discredit
’ vealed by the picture of Sokrates of the body in the Phsdon.
—no intuition to guidehim .. 407] Different f about the body

Different notions of Plato and Ari- in other Platonic dialogues . 422
stotle about causation, causes Plato's argument does not prove
regular and irregular. Inductive the immortality of the soul.
theory of causation, elaborated Even if it did prove that, yet
in modern times ἐδ.} the mode of pre-existence and
Last transition of the mind of So- the mode of post-existence, of
krates from things to w the would be quite unde-

the adoption of the theory of . 423
ideas. Great multitude of ideas The philosopher will | enjoy an ex-
assumed, each fitting a certain δ istence of pure soul unattached

num

Ultimate appeal to hypothesis of

extreme gen erality . - 411
Plato's denonstra on of the im-
ortality of the soul rests upon
the assumption of the Platonic
ideas. rove this 412

Reaso: to
The soul ease plage e, and is

to any body 425
Plato’s demonstration of the im-
mortality of the soul did not
appear satisfactory to subse-
quent philosophers. The ques-
tion remained debated and pro-

PLATO.

CHAPTER XII.
ALKIBIADES I. AND II.
ALKIBIADES I.—On THE NATURE oF MAN.

Tus dialogue is carried on between Sokrates and Alkibiades.
It introduces Alkibiades as about twenty years of age,
' having just passed through the period of youth, and supposed in
about to enter on the privileges and duties of a citizen.
The real dispositions and circumstances of the his- Persons —
torical Alkibiades (magnificent personal beauty, and Alki-
stature, and strength, high family and connections,— Plades.
great wealth already possessed, since his father had died when he
was a child,—a full measure of education and accomplishmente—
together with exorbitant ambition and insolence, derived from
such accumulated advantages) are brought to view in the opening
address of Sokrates. Alkibiades, during the years of youth
which he had just passed, had been surrounded by admirers who
tried to render themselves acceptable to him, but whom he
repelled with indifference, and even with scorn. Sokrates had
been among them, constantly present and near to Alkibiades, but
without ever addressing a word to him. The youthful beauty
being now exchanged for. manhood, all these admirers had
retired, and Sokrates alone remains. His attachment is to
Alkibiades himself :—to. promise of mind rather than to. attrac-
tions of person. Sokrates has been always hitherto restrained,
wet τ αὶ ς΄. ι

2 ALKIBIADES I. AND IL. Cuap. XII.

by his divine sign or Demon, from speaking to Alkibiades. But
this prohibition has now been removed ; and he accosts him for
the first time, in the full belief that he shall be able to give
improving counsel, essential to the success of that political career
upon which the youth is about to enter.?

You are about to enter on public life (says Sokrates to Alki-
Exorbitant biades) with the most inordinate aspirations for glory
hopesand and aggrandisement. You not only thirst for the

am- . 6.9 .

ition of | acquisition of ascendancy such as Perikles possesses
Alkibiades. at Athens, but your ambition will not be satisfied
unless you fill Asia with your renown, and put yourself upon
ἃ level with Cyrus and Xerxes. Now such aspirations cannot
be gratified except through my assistance. I do not deal in
long discourses such as you have been accustomed to hear from
others: I shall put to you only some short interrogatories, re-
quiring nothing more than answers to my questions.”

Sokr.—You are about to step forward as adviser of the public
Questions assembly. Upon what pointsdo you intend to advise
Bot σα, in them? Upon points which you know better than they ἢ
reference to Alk.—Of course. Sokr.—All that you know, has been
inhisin- | either learnt from others or found out by yourself. Al.
_ fended —Certainly. Sokr.—But you would neither have learnt
as adviser any thing, nor found out any thing, without the desire
Athenians. to learn or find out: and you would have felt no such
What does desire, in respect to that which you believed yourself
bd advise ny Ὁ know already. That which you now know, there-
€Vhathas fore, there was a time when you believed yourself not

1 Plato, Alkib. & 108, 104, 205. Peri- normal in what is there recounted

kles is sup be alive and about Sokrates and Alkibiades.
of Athens—104 B. Ina © CO’
I have briefly sketched the Socraticus (cited by the r Ari-

absurd and un- thus agreed in picture of the
nataral, allege this among
weasons for ticity of

des. .
the dialogue. But if any one reads 3 Plato, Alkib. £ 106 B. “Apa ὁ δι

—the δα e
been denied b critic—he will ἐμόν. I here; as elsewhere, not
Hea manething © greet deal more ab- crack tribulation ‘bat an shetrect =

Cuap. XIL. WHAT CAN HE ADVISE UPON? 3

to know? Alk.—Necessarily so. Sokr.—Now 411 he be learnt,
that you have learnt, as I am well aware, consists of does he
three things—letters, the harp, gymnastics. Do you *®°W?
intend to advise the Athenians when they are debating about
letters, or about harp-playing, or about gymnastics? Alk—
Neither of the three. Sokr.—Upon what occasions, then, do you
propose to give advice? Surely, not when the Athenians are
debating about architecture, or prophetic warnings, or the public
health : for to deliver opinions on each of these matters, belongs
not to you but to professional men—architects, prophets, phy-
sicians ; whether they be poor or rich, high-born or low-born ?
If not then, upon what other occasions will you tender your
counsel? Alk—When they are debating about affairs of their
own.

Sokr.—But about what affairs of their own? Not about affairs

of shipbuilding : for of that you know nothing. Al. . os aos

—When they are discussing war and peace, or any
other business concerning the city. Sokr.—You mean
when they are discussing the question with whom

intends to
advise the
Athenians
on questious

of war and

they shall make war or peace, and in what manner?
But it is certain that we must fight those whom it is
best to fight—also when it is best—and as long as it is th
best. Alk—Certainly. Sokr.—Now, if the Athe-
nians wished to know whom it was best to wrestle
with, and when or how long it was best—which of
the two would be most competent to advise them, you δὲ
or the professional trainer? Alk.—The trainer, un- 0%" ον
doubtedly. Sokr.—So, too, about playing the harp just and

or singing. But when you talk about better, in unjust.
wrestling or singing, what standard do you refer to? Is it not
‘to the gymnastic or musical art? Alk—Yes... Sokr.—Answer
me in like manner about war or peace, the subjects on which you
are going to advise your countrymen, whom, and at what periods,
it is better to fight, and better not to fight? What-in this last-case
do you mean by better? To what standard, or to what end, do
you refer?! Αἰ cannot say. Sokr.—But is it not a disgrace,

1 Plato, Alkib. i. 108 E—100 A. ‘qd βέλτιον τί δνομάζεις ; ὥσπερ ἐκεῖ
ἴϑι ϑή, και. τὸ ἐν τῷ πολεμεῖν. βέλ. ἐφ᾽. τὸ ἄμεινον, ὅτι
κιὸν καὶ τὸ ἐν τῷ εἰρήνην ἄγειν, τοῦτο μονσικώτερον, ἐπὶ τῷ Mirtpy, ὅτε

4 ALKIBIADES 1. AND IL Cuap. XII.

since you profess to advise your countrymen when and against
whom it is better for them to war,—not to be able to say to what
end your better refers? Do not you know what are the usual
grounds and complaints urged when war is undertaken? Alk.—
Yes: complaints of having been cheated, or robbed, or injured.
Sokr.—Under what circumstances? Alk—You mean, whether
justly or unjustly? That makes all the difference. Sokr.—Do
you mean to advise the Athenians to fight those who behave
justly, or those who behave unjustly? Alk—The question is
monstrous. Certainly not those who behave justly. It would
be neither lawful nor honourable. Sokr.—Then when you spoke
about better, in reference to war or peace, what you meant was
juster—you had in view justice and injustice? Alk.—It seems 80.
Sokr.—How is this? How do you know, or where have you
learnt, to distinguish just from unjust? Have you
from whom, frequented some master, without my knowledge, to
has Alki- teach you this? If you have, pray introduce me to
learnt to to him, that I also may learn it from him. A&—You
distinguish are jesting. Sokr.—Not at all: I love you too well
Uajast?. ye to jest. Alk—But what if I had no master? Can-
never learnt not I know about justice and injustice, without a
ones he master? Sokr.—Certainly: you might find out for
always fe, Yourself, if you made search and investigated. But
evenasa this you would not do, unless you were under the
bey. persuasion that you did not already know. Alk—
Was there not a time when I really believed myself not to know it?
Sokr.—Perhaps there may have been: tell me when that time
was. Was it last year? Alk.—No: last year I thought that I
knew. Sokr.—Well, then—two years, three years, &.,. agot
Alk.—No: the case was the same—then, also, I thought that 1;
knew. Sokr.—But before that, you were a mere boy; and
during your boyhood you certainly believed yourself to know
what was just and unjust ; for I well recollect hearing you then
complain confidently of other boys, for acting unjustly towards
you. Alk.—Certainly : I was not then ignorant on the point: I
knew distinctly that they were acting unjustly towards me.

ἐρῶ δὴ καὶ ἐνταῦ- ἄμεινον καὶ τὸ ἐν τῷ πολεμεῖν οἷς δεῖ;
ὅς λέγει 2 “Baanay ᾿ se ee πρὸς Alkib, ᾿Αλλὰ σκοπὼν οὐ δύναμαι ἐν-

τῷ εἰρήνην τε ἄγειν νοῆσαι.

Cuap. XII. LEARNING FROM THE MULTITUDE. 5

Sokr.—You knew, then, even in your boyhood, what was just
and what was unjust? Alk.—Certainly: I knew even then.
Sokr.—At what moment did you first find it out? Not when
you already believed yourself to know: and what time was there
when you did not believe yourself to know? Alk.—Upon my
word, I cannot say.

Sokr.—Since, accordingly, you neither found it out for yourself,
nor learnt it from others, how come you to know

ar oe μ Answer
justice or injustice at all, or from what quarter? amended
Alk.—I was mistaken in saying that I had not learnt {ikiUades
it. I learnt it, as others do, from the multitude.? from the |

Sokr.—Your teachers are none of the best: no one
can learn from them even such small matters as 0°?
playing at draughts: much less, what is just and
unjust. Alk.—I learnt it from them as 1 learnt to
speak Greek, in which, too, I never had any special

teacher. Sokr.—Of that the multitude are competent
teachers, for they are all of one mind. Ask which is
a tree or a stone,—a horse or a ‘man,—you get the
_ game answer from every one. But when you ask not
simply which are horses, but also which horses are fit
to run well in a race—when you ask not merely
which are men, but which men are healthy or

at variance
ainuug
themselves
about it.
Alkibiades
is going to
vise the
Athenians
about what
he does not
know him-

unhealthy—are the multitude all of one mind, or all “ἢ

competent to answer? Alk.—Assuredly not. Sokr.—When you
see the multitude differing among themselves, that is a clear
proof that they are not competent to teach others. Alk.—lIt is
20. Sokr.—Now, about the question, What is just and unjust—
are the multitude all ef one mind, or do they differ among them-
selves? Alk.—They differ prodigiously : they not only dispute,
but quarrel and destroy each other, respecting justice and
injustice, far more than about health and sickness? Sokr.—How,
then, can we say that the multitude know what is just and
unjust, when they thus fiercely dispute about it among them-
selves? Alk.—I now perceive that we cannot say so. Sokr.—

1 Plato, Alkib. 1, 10 D-E. ἔμαθον,
οἶμαι, καὶ ἐγὼ ὥσπερ καὶ οἱ ἄλλοι

. παρὰ τῶν πολλῶν.
Ἄ Ριδίο, Alkib, 1 112 A. Sokr. Ti
δὲ δὴΣ viv περὶ τὸν δικαίων καὶ ἀδίκων

ἀνθρώπων καὶ ἔτων, οἱ πολλοὶ δο-
κοῦσί σοι ὅμολο ἣν αὑτοὶ ars b tone

λοις; Alkib, κιστα, νὴ Δί", Σώκ-
pares. δοῖν. τί δέ; μάλιστα περὶ αὑτῶν
διαφέρεσθαι; Alkib. πολύ γε.

«
.

6 ALEKIDIADES 1. AND 11. Cap. XII.

How can we say, therefore, that they are fit to teach others: and
how can you pretend ’to know, who have learnt from no other
teachers? Alk.—From what you say, it is impossible.

~. Sokr.—No: not from what I say, but from what you say
yourself. I merely ask questions: it is you who give all the
answers. And what you have said amounts to this—that Alki-
biades knows nothing about what is just and unjust, but believes
himself to know, and is going to advise the Athenians about
what he does not know himself?

Alk.—But, Sokrates, the Athenians do not often debate about
what is just and unjust. They think that question
farther self-evident: they debate generally about what is
amended. expedient or not expedient. Justice and expediency
ansdonot do not always coincide. Many persons commit great
crimes, and are great gainers by doing so: others again
about just behave justly, and suffer from it? Sokr.—Do. you
which they then profess to know what is expedient or inex-
oni to pedient? From whom have you learnt—or when did
every one— you find out for yourself? I might ask you the same
round of questions, and you would be compelled to
pedient, | answer in the same manner. But we will pass to
whichare ἃ different point. You say that justice and ex-
dent with pediency are not coincident. Persuade me of this, by
ust and w- interrogating me as I interrogated you. .Alk.—That
neitherdoes ig beyond my power. Sokr.—But when you rise to
khow the address the assembly, you will have to persuade them.
expedient. Tf you can persuade them, you can persuade me.
' Assume me to be the assembly, and practise upon

me. Alk—You are too hard upon me, Sokrates. It
declines: τ for you to speak, and prove the point. Sokr.—No:

‘but Τ can only question: you must answer. You will be
question, most surely persuaded when the point is determined
by your own answers.‘

‘Such is the commencing portion (abbreviated ‘or abstracted)

βονλεύε 4-15.
δεκαιότε ύ “ τὰ μὲν 4 , Alkib. 4. 114 E.
τοιαῦτα Oe aires bake ah δῆλα εἶναι, Go. - γὰρ Οὐκοῦν εἰ λέγεις ὅτι ταῦθ᾽ οὕτως ἔχει,
3Piato, Alkib. 1.114 BO. This μάλιστ᾽ ἂν εἴης πεπεισμένος ;

Cuap. XIL SOKRATIC METHOD. 7

of Plato’s First Alkibiadés. It exhibits a very cha-

racteristic specimen of the Sokratico-Platonic method : on the pre
both in its negative and positive aspect. By the nega- Sokritic
tive, false persuasion of knowledge is exposed. Alki- the respon
biades believes himself competent to advise about just dent makes
and unjust, which he has neither learnt from any the disco-

teacher nor investigated for himself—which he has bi

picked up from the multitude, and supposes to be clear to every
one, but about which nevertheless there is so much difference of
appreciation among the multitude, that fierce and perpetual
quarrels are going on. On the positive side, Sokrates restricts
himself to the function of questioning: he neither affirms nor
denies any thing. It is Alkibiades who affirms or denies every
thing, and who makes all the discoveries for himself out of his
own mind, instigated indeed, but not taught, by the questions of _
his companion.

By a farther series of questions, Sokrates next brings Alki-
biades to the admission that what is just, is also Alki
honourable, good, expedient—what is unjust, is dis- i
honourable, evil, inexpedient: and that whoever ‘24
acts justly, and honourably, thereby acquires happi- ae
ness. Admitting, first, that an act which is good, honourable,
honourable, just, expedient, &c., considered in one CxRedient:
aspect or in reference to some of its conditions—
may be at the same time bad, dishonourable, unjust,
inexpedient, &c., considered in another aspect or ὦ

and
in reference to other conditions; Sokrates never- car es fo r
᾿ theless brings his respondent to admit, that every happiness
Υ͂

act, ὑπ so far as tt ts just and honourable, is also good
and expedient.1 And he contends farther, that who- re
ever acts honourably, does well: now every man who

does well, becomes happy, or secures good things thereby : there-

1 Plato, Alkib. i. 115 B—116 A.
7 tavryy ,βοηθείαν καλὴν
μὲν λέγεις Κα κατὰ "τὴν ἐπιχεῖ σιν οἶον
σῶσαι οὖς ἔδε στὶν ἀνδ

. κακὴν δέ. ize : κατὰ rods ϑανάτουε τ τε

καὶ τὰ ἕλκη...
Οὐκοῦν ὧδε δίκαιον. προσ
οὗν - ve eiwep and
é eres ν καλεῖς, καὶ γ ἀγαθὸν
κλητέον.

Ap’ οὖν καὶ i εὐγαθὸν καλόν;- ἢ δὲ

κακὸν Compare a ;
st, Ἐσραβηιὸ, τ. p. 479,

whee e Pe naintelns every
ticular case, what is just, τ δια
virtaous, &., is also unjust, dishonour-
y able, vicious, &. othing

. Hor excludes the contrary,

Θ pure, self-existent, Idea or

Concept.—abro-dix

except
general τὸ δικαιοσύνη, ee.

8 ALKIBIADES I. AND IL. Cuap. XII.

fore the just, the honourable, and the good or expedient, coin-
cide! The argument, whereby this conclusion is here esta-
blished, is pointed out by Heindorf, Stallbaum, and Steinhart,
as not merely inconclusive, but as mere verbal equivocation and

sophistry—the like of

Plato.?

which, however, we find elsewhere in

Alkibiades is thus reduced to a state of humiliating em-

tes- believing himself to. know.

as le.

barrassment, and stands convicted, by his own con-
tradictions and confession, of ignorance in its worst
form : that is, of being ignorant, and yet confidently
But other Athenian
statesmen are no wiser. Even Perikles is proved
to be equally deficient—by the fact that he has
never been able to teach or improve any one else,
not even his own sons and those whom he loved
best. “ At any rate” (contends Alkibiades) “I am

.a8 good as my competitors, and can hold my ground

against them.” But Sokrates reminds him that the

- real competitors with whom he ought to compare

himeelf, are foreigners, liable to become the enemies
of Athens, and against whom he, if he pretends to

- lead Athens, must be able to contend. In an harangue

of unusual length, Sokrates shows that the kings of
Sparta and Persia are of nobler breed, as well as more
highly and carefully trained, than the Athenian

' statesmen.5 Alkibiades must be rescued from his present igno-

rance, and exalted, so as to be capable of competing with these
: which object cannot be attained except through the

his interrogatories.®

1 Plato, Alkib. (A; compare H Platon.
2The words δ pire \ mid. p. 172 A, p. 174 B; also Platon.
here,» doate. soso, tke our“ Going | Gorgine, p. ὁ Ὁ, where’ similar equi
Steinhart, Einl. p. 140. Ὁ ἘΦ Pato, Albi. 1 p. 118.

We have, p. 118 B, the ὁ spirres, \/ 8 Pinto, Alki. { p. 120124

tine Sith cnake epbrcan p. δ An 136 ᾿ς Plato’ Alkib. £ >. 124.

Cuap. XII. EXAMPLES OF “GooD”. .9

The dialogue then continues. Sokr.—We wish to become as
good as possible. But in what sort of virtue? Alk.—
In that virtue which belongs to good men. Sokr.— But ε ood—
Yes, but good, in what matters? Alk.—Evidently, to ond.and ΠΟ ὲ
men who are good in transacting business. Sokr.— circum-
Ay, but what kind of business? business relating to 9pnces!
horses, or to navigation? If that be meant, we must examen
go and consult horse-trainers or mariners? Alk.—
No, I mean such business as is transacted by the most esteemed
leaders in Athens. Sokr.—You mean the intelligent men.
Every man is good, in reference to that which he understands :
every man is bad, in reference to that which he does not under-
stand. Alk.—Of course. Sokr.—The cobbler understands shoe-
making, and is therefore good at that: he does not understand
‘weaving, and is therefore bad at that. The same man thus, in
your view, will be both good and bad?! Alk.—No: that cannot
be. Sokr.—Whom then do you mean, when you talk of the good?
Alk.—I mean those who are competent to command in the city.
Sokr.—But to command whom or what—horses or men? Alk.—
To command men. Sokr.—-But what men, and under what cir-
cumstances? sick men, or men on shipboard, or labourers engaged
in harvesting, or in what occupations? Alk.—I mean, men living
in social and commercial relation with each other, as we live
here ; men who live in common possession of the same laws and
government. Sokr.—When men are in communion of a sea
voyage and of the same ship, how do we name the art of com-
manding them, and to what purpose does it tend? Alk.—It is
the art of the pilot ; and the purpose towards which it tends, is,
᾿ bringing them safely through the dangers of the sea. Sokr.—
‘When men are in social and political eommunion, to what pur-
pose does the art of commanding them tend? Alk.—Towards
the better preservation and administration of the city.2 Sokr.—
But what do you mean by better? What is that, the presence or
absence of which makes better or worse? If in regard to the

1 Plato, Alkib. 1. p. 125 Β.᾿ 3 Plato, Alkib. i. p.126 A. si δέ;
Ὃ αὑτὸς ἄρα τούτῳ γε τῷ λόγῳ κακός σὺ καλεῖς εὐβουλίαν, εἷς τί ἐστιν; »
Te καὶ ἀγαθός. ς τὸ ἄμεινον τὴν πόλιν διοικεῖν καὶ
alides unconsciously here, as σώζεσθει. Sokr. "Apewwow δὲ διοικεῖται
“fn other parts of his reasonings, a dicto καὶ σώζεται τίνος παραγιγνομένον ἧ ἀπο-
secundum quid, ad dictum simplictter. γιγγομένου ;

10 ALKIBIADES L AND II. Cuap. XIL.

management of the body, you put to me the same question, I
should reply, that it is the presence of health, and the absence of
disease. What reply will you make, in the case of the city ?
Alk.—I should say, when friendship and unanimity among the
citizens are present, and when discord and antipathy are absent.
Sokr.—This unanimity, of what nature is it? Respecting what
subject? What is the art or science for realising it? If I ask you
what brings about unanimity respecting numbers and measures,
you will say the arithmetical and the metrétic art. Alk.—I
mean that friendship and unanimity which prevails between
near relatives, father and son, husband and wife. Sokr.—But
how can there be unanimity between any two persons, respecting
subjects which one of them knows, and the other does not know?
For example, about spinning and weaving, which the husband
does not know,—or about military duties, which the wife does
not know,—how can there be unanimity between the two? Aik.
—No: there cannot be. Sokr.—Nor friendship, if unanimity
and friendship go together? Alk.—Apparently there cannot.
Sokr.—Then when men and women each perform their own
special duties, there can be no friendship between them. Nor
can a city be well administered, when each citizen performs his
own special duties? or (which is the same thing) when each
citizen acts justly 1 Alk.—Not so: I think there may be friend-
ship, when each person performs his or her own business. Sokr.
—Just now you said the reverse. What is this friendship or
unanimity which we must understand and realise, in order to
become good men ?
Alk.—In truth, I am puzzled myself to say. I find myself
in a state of disgraceful ignorance, of which I had no
ed and previous suspicion. Sokr.—Do not be discouraged.
confesses If you had made this discovery when you were fifty
his igno- = years old, it would have been too late for taking
Encourage- care of yourself and applying a remedy: but at
bySokrates. your age, it is the right time for making the dis-
—Itisean covery. Alk.—What am I to do, now that I have
tom make made it? Sokr.—You must answer my questions.
coveryin If -my auguries are just, we shall soon be both of us
youth. better for the process.*

1 Plato, Alkib. i 127 D-E. Alk τιλ ,κἰγδυνεύο δὲ καὶ πάλαι λεληϑέναε
᾿Αλλὰ μὰ τοὺς θεούς, οὐδ᾽ αὐτὸς οἶδα 3 pg rte

Cuap. XII. PLATONIC DIALECTIC. 11

Here we have again, brought into prominent relief, the dia-
lectic method of Plato, under two distinct aspects :
1. Its actual effects, in exposing the false supposition p)iatectic—
of knowledge, in forcing upon the respondent the its actual
humiliating conviction, that he does not know familiar anticipated
topics which he supposed to be clear both to himself plicable
and to others. 2. Its anticipated effects, if continued, bre season
. . . . youth.
in remedying such defect : and in generating out of
the mind of the respondent, real and living knowledge. Lastly,
it is plainly intimated that this shock of humiliation and mis-
trust, painful but inevitable, must be undergone in youth.

The dialogue continues, in short questions and answers,.
of which the following is an abstract. Sokr.—What ἃ νον thy.
is meant by a man taking care of himself? Before sel
I can take care of myself, I must know what myself hnaxim—its
is: I must know myself, according to the Delphian wZsent im-
motto. I cannot make myself better, without know- What is
ing what myself 16.} That which belongs to me is not mind is
myself: my body is not myself, but an instrument
governed by myself.2 My mind or soul only, is myself. To
take care of myself is, to take care of my mind. At any rate, if
this be not strictly true,? my mind is the most important and
dominant element within me. The physician who knows his.
own body, does not for that reason know himeelf: much less do-
the husbandman or the tradesman, who know their own proper-
ties or crafts, know themselves, or perform what is truly their
own business.

Since temperance consists in self-knowledge, neither of these
professional men, as such, is temperate : their profes- 1 αληποὶ
sions are of a vulgar cast, and do not belong to the know my-

Sokr. ᾿Αλλὰ χρὴ θαῤῥεῖν" εἰ μὲν γὰρ Δ Plato, Alkib. i. 199 B. τίν᾽ ἂν-
αὐτὸ ἦσθον warovOiee πεντήκοντ. , τρόπον εὑρεθείη αὐτὸ τὸ αὑτό;
χαλεπὸν ἂν ἦν σοι ἐπιμεληθῆναι σαντοῦὺ - 3 Plato, Alkib. i 198-130, All this:
voy δὲ ἣν ἔχεις ἡλικίαν, αὐτὴ ἐστίν, ἐν Ff is greatly expanded in the dial

δεῖ αὐτὸ αἰσθέσθαι. Ῥ. 128 Ὁ: Οὐκ ἄρα ὅταν τῶν cavrov a
Alk, Ti οὖν τὸν αἰσθόμενον χρὴ Teh, σαυτοῦ ἐπιμέλει; This same anti-
ποιεῖν; thesis is employed by Isokrates, De-

Sokr. ᾿Αποκρίνεσθαι τὰ ἐρωτώ- Permutatione, sect. 309, p. 492, Bekker.
μενα" καὶ ἐὰν τοῦτο ποιῇς, ἂν θεὸς He recommends αὐτοῦ πρότερον ἣ τῶν-
ἐθέλῃ, εἴ τι δεῖ καὶ τῇ be μαντείᾳ αὑτοῦ ποιεῖσθαι τὴν ἐπιμέλειαν
πιστεύειν, σύ τε κἀγὼ Behr ψως τας 3 Plato considers this point (0 be not.
cooper. . clearly made out. Alkib. i. 130

12 ALKIBIADES I. AND IL Cuap. XII.

self, except virtuous 1161 How are we to know our own minds ?
intoanother We know it by looking into another mind, and into
mind, Self” the most rational and divine portion thereof : just as
istemper- the eye can only know itself by looking into another |
ceand eye, and seeing itself therein reflected.* It is only in
gustice are this way that we can come to know ourselves, or be-
tions both + come temperate: and if we do not know ourselves, we
nessand «cannot even know what belongs to ourselves, or what
of freedom. belongs to others: all these are branches of one and
the same cognition. We can have no knowledge of affairs, either
public or private : we shall go wrong, and shall be unable to
secure happiness either for ourselves or for others. It is not
wealth or power which are the conditions of happiness, but
justice and temperance. Both for ourselves individually, and for
the public collectively, we ought to aim at justice and temperance,
not at wealth and power. The evil and unjust man ought to have
no power, but to be the slave of those who are better than him-
self? He is fit for nothing but to be a slave: none deserve
freedom except the virtuous,
Alkibiades Sokr.—How do you feel your own condition now,
feelshimself Alkibiades. Are you worthy of freedom? Alk.—I
be free ana feel but too keenly that Iam not. I cannot emerge
thet ne will {rom this degradation except by your society and
never quit help. From this time forward I shall never leave
Sokra you.

ALXKIBIADEs II.

The other Platonic dialogue, termed the Second Alkibiades,
introduces Alkibiades as about to offer prayer and
kibiadés— Sacrifice to the Gods.
situation Sokr.—You seem absorbed in thought, Alkibiad
and not unreasonably. In supplicating the Gods,
Danger of caution is required not to pray for gifts which are
to really mischievous. The Gods sometimes grant men’s
for gifts prayers, even when ruinously destructive ; as they

1 Plato, Alkib. i. 181 B. ἄμεινον ὑπὸ τοῦ βελτίονος ἣ τὸ ἄρχειν
3 Plato, Alkib. i 138. ἀνδρὶ, οὗ μόνον παιδί. . . . Πρέπει dpa
3 Plato, Alkib. i. 134-185 B-C.

τῷ κακῷ δονλεύει»" ἄμεινον γάρ.
Πριν δέ γε ἀρετὴν ἔχειν, τὸ ἄρχεσθαι. 4 Plato, Alkib. 1. 185.

(
Cuap. XII. MOST MEN UNWIBE. oe

5
granted the prayers of CEdipus, to the destruction of ren ich may
his own sons. Alk.—(CEdipus was mad: what man chiev
in his senses would put up such a prayer? Sokr— δ
You think that madness is the opposite of good sense
or wisdom. You recognise men wise and unwise: τ
and you farther admit that every man must be one or
other of the two,—just as every man must be either
healthy or sick: there is no third alternative possible?
Alk.—I think so. Sokr.—But each thing can have but one
opposite :! to be unwise, and to be mad, are therefore identical ?

°c 8

ine

- Alk.—They are. Sokr.—Wise men are only few, the majority of linc. a.

our citizens are unwise: but do you really think them mad?
How could any of us live safely in the society of ΒΟ many mad-
men? Alk.—No: 16 cannot be so: I was mistaken. Sokr.—
Here is the illustration of your mistake. All men who have
gout, or fever, or ophthalmia are sick ; but all sick men have
not gout, or fever, or ophthalmia. So, too, all carpenters, or
shoemakers, or sculptors, are craftsmen ; but all craftamen are
not carpenters, or shoemakers, or sculptors. In like manner, all
mad men are unwise; but all unwise men are not mad. Un-
wise comprises many varieties and gradations—of which the
extreme is, being mad: but these varieties are different among
themselves, as one disease differs from another, though all agree
in being disease—and one art differs from another, though all
agree in being art.?

(We may remark that Plato here, as in . the Euthyphron,
brings under especial notice one of the.most important
distinctions in formal logic—that between a generic
term and the various specific terms comprehended
under it. Possessing as yet no technical language for
characterising this distinction, he makes it under-
stood by an induction of several separate but analogous
cases. Because the distinction is familiar now to
instructed men, we must not suppose that it was
familiar then.)

i Plato, Alkib. ii. _p. 139 B. and no more, is asserted in the Prota-
Kai μὴν δύο ye ὑπεναντία ἑνὶ πράγ- goras also, p. 192-193.

ματι πῶς ay ἂν εἴη, ; ? Plato, ib. ii. p. 139-140 A-B.
That each thing has one opposite, Καὶ γὰρ οἱ πυρέττοντες πάντες νοσοῦ-

φλούς

a4 ' ALKIBIADES I. AND II. Cuap. XII.

Sokr.—Whom do you call wise and unwise? Is not the wise
Frequent 518}, he who knows what it is proper to say and do—
and the unwise man, he who does not know? Alk.—
pray for Yes. Sokr.—The unwise man will thus often uncon-
ae sciously say or do what ought not to be said or done?
and find Though not mad like (Βαραδ, he will nevertheless

obtained, pray to the Gods for gifts, which will be hurtful to
‘they are ies, him if obtained. You, for example, would be over-

Everyone joyed if the Gods were to promise that you should
fancies that ‘become despot not only over Athens, but also over
What is 1, Greece. Alk.—Doubtless I should: and every one
-michiefs of else would feel as Ido. Sokr.—But what if you were
ignorance. (0 purchase it with yourlife, ortodamage yourself by the
-employment of it? Alk.—Not on those conditions.1 Sokr.—But
you are aware that many ambitious aspirants, both at Atheris and
elsewhere (among them, the man who just now killed the
Macedonian King Archelaus, and usurped his throne), have
acquired power and aggrandisement, so as to be envied by every
one: yet have presently found themselves brought to ruin and
-death by the acquisition. So, also, many persons pray that they
may become fathers ; but discover presently that their children
are the source of so much grief to them, that they wish them-
:selves again childless. Nevertheless, though such reverses are .
perpetually happening, every one is still not only eager to obtain
these supposed benefits, but importunate with the Gods in
asking for them. You see that it is not safe even to accept with-
out reflection boons offered to you, much less to pray for boons
“to be conferred.? Alk.—I see now how much mischief ignorance
‘produces. Every one thinks himself competent to pray for what
“is beneficial to himself ; but ignorance makes him unconsciously
imprecate mischief on his own head.

Sokr.—You ought not to denounce ignorance in this unquali-
Mistake in ed manner. You must distinguish and specify—
predica, τ ' Ignorance of what? and under what modifications of
ignorance persons and circumstances? Alk.—How? Are there

ow, οὐ μέντοι οἱ νοσοῦντες πάντες πᾶσαι οὔτε ὅμοιαι οὔτε ὁμοίως
-πνρέττουσιν οὐδὲ ποδαγρῶσιν οὐδέ ὑδέ γε τὸ γὰρ πᾶσαι ἀλλὰ κατὰ τὴν αὐτῆς

τοιοῦτόν ἔστι, διαφέρειν δέ acu obs obs δὴ μιν: Alkib. fi. p. 141.
“καλοῦμεν ἰατροὺς τὴν ἀπεργασίαν αὐτῶν" 2 Plato, Alkib. ii. r 141-142

CHapP. XIL IGNORANCE SOMETIMES USEFUL. 15

any matters or circumstances in which it is better for nerally.
8 man to be ignorant, than to' know? Sokr.—You discrimi-
will see that there are such. Ignorance of good, or Pit, ¢
ignorance of what is best, is always mischievous: what? Igno-
moreover, assuming that a man knows what is best, good, is
then all other knowledge will be profitable to him. ®/ways mis-
In his special case, ignorance on any subject cannot ignorance |
be otherwise than hurtful. But if a man be ignorant things, not
of good, or of what is best, in his case knowledge on #!ways.
other subjects will be more often hurtful than profitable. To a
man like Orestes, so misguided on the question, “What is good?”
as to resolve to kill his mother,—it would be a real benefit, if for
the time he did not know his mother. Ignorance on that point,
in his state of mind, would be better for him than knowledge.!
Alk.—It appears so.

Sokr.—Follow the argument farther. When we come forward
to say or do any thing, we either know what we are wise public
about to say and do, or at least believe ourselves to counsellors ©
know it. Every statesman who gives counsel to the Upon what
public, does so in the faith of such knowledge. Most Fo catithese
citizens are unwise, and ignorant of good as well as few wise?
of other things. The wise are but few, and by their they possess
’ advice the city is conducted. Now upon what ground Gis) ates or
do we call these few, wise and useful public coun- 8ccomplish-
sellors? If a statesman knows war, but does not because
know whether it is best to go to war, or at what postaes
juncture it is best—should we call him wise? If he
knows how to kill men, or dispossess them, or drive and under
them into exile,—but does not know upon whom, or oooh οἱ
on what occasions, it is good to inflict this treatment these ac-
—is he a useful counsellor? If he can ride, or shoot, men ought
or wrestle, well,—we give him an epithet derived % be used
from this special accomplishment: we do not call him wise.
‘What would be the condition of a community composed of bowmen,
horsemen, wrestlers, rhetors, &., accomplished and excellent
each in his own particular craft, yet none of them knowing what
is good, nor when, nor on what occasions, it is good-to employ

1 Plato, Alkib. if. p. 144,

™
- -

16 ALKIBIADES L AND IL Cuap. XII.

their craft? When each man pushes forward his own art and
speciality, without any knowledge whether it is good on the
whole either for himself or for the city, will not affairs thus con-
ducted be reckless and disastrous?! Alk.—They will be very
bad indeed.

Sokr.—If, then, a nian has no knowledge of good or of the
Specialac- better—if upon this cardinal point he obeys fancy
without reason—the possession of knowledge upon
out the special subjects will be oftener hurtful than profitable
knowledge to him ; because it will make him more forward in
or prot ~—_action, without any good result. Possessing many
oftener arts and accomplishments,—and prosecuting one after
bartfal ae. another, but without the knowledge of good,—he will
ficial. only fall into greater trouble, like a ship sailing
without a pilot. Knowledge of good is, in other words, know-
ledge of what is useful and profitable. In conjunction with this,
all other knowledge is valuable, and goes to increase a man’s
competence as a counsellor : apart from this, all other knowledge
will not render a man competent as a counsellor, but will be
more frequently hurtful than beneficial.* ‘Towards right living,
what we need is, the knowledge of good : just as the sick stand
in need of a physician, and the ship’s crew of a pilot. A&—I
admit your reasoning. My opinion is changed. I no longer
believe myself competent to determine what I ought to accept
from the Gods, or what I ought to pray for. I incur serious
danger of erring, and of asking for mischiefs, under the belief
that they are benefits.

Sokr.—The Lacedemonians, when they offer sacrifice, pray
Tt te unsafe simply that they may obtain what is honourable and
binds ¢ to good, without farther specification. This panguege ἰ is

3 Plato, alkib. Μ. δ: Tid" 1468: ones ei Er ye
, κινδυνεύε ν ἐπιστημῶν

παρέπηται τοῦ ελτίστον édy τό Vie τῆς oes βελτίστον
Perna ἃ ἦν ἢ τα δή- ἐπιστὴμ πες ἐν ἘΣ ις
πον ἧπερ καὶ ἡ τοῦ ὠφελίμον πτειν δὲ τὰ πλείω τὸν
ἐμόν γε αὐτὸ tha ΤΩ A: Ὁ aN

τῶν
Οὐκοῦν φαμὲν πάλιν τοὺς πολλοὺς διημαρ- πολλῷ χειμῶνι σεται, ἅτ᾽, οἶμαι, ἄνεν
τηκέναι τοῦ βελτίστον, ὡς τὰ πολλά ye,- ἀνβερνέτον ἐν, ΧΡ ἐν iw?

Crap. XIL. KNOWLEDGE OF GOOD IS REQUIRED.

acceptable to the Gods, more acceptable than the
costly festivals of Athens. It has procured for the
Spartans more continued prosperity than the Athe-
nians have enjoyed.’
just men,—that is, men who know what they ought
to say and do both towards Gods and towards men—
more than numerous and splendid offerings? You
see, therefore, that it is not safe for you to proceed
with your sacrifice, until you have learnt what is the

The Gods honour wise and is

proceed
with his
sacrifice,
until he has
learnt what
is the proper

sacrifice,
and throws
himself

proper language to be used, and what are the really
good gifts to be prayed for. Otherwise your sacri-
fice will not prove acceptable, and you may even bring upon
yourself positive mischief. Alk.—When shall I be able to learn
this, and who is there to teach me? I shall be delighted to meet
him. Sokr.—There isa person at hand most anxious for your
improvement. What he must do is, first to disperse the darkness
from your mind,—next, to impart that which will teach you to
discriminate evil from good, which at present you are unable to
do. Alk.—I shall shrink from no labour to accomplish this
object. Until then, I postpone my intended sacrifice: and I
tender my sacrificial wreath to you, in gratitude for your
counsel.* Sokr.—I accept the wreath as a welcome augury of
future friendship and conversation between us, to help us out of
. the present embarrassment.

The two dialogues, called First and Second Alkibiadés, of ©

which I have just given some account, resemble each
other more than most of the Platonic dialogues, not
merely in, the personages introduced, but in general
spirit, in subject, and even in illustrations. The First
Alkibiadés was recognised as authentic by all critics

without exception, until the days of Schleiermacher.

Different
critical
opinions
respec
these two
ogues.

Nay, it

was not only recognised, but extolled as one of the most valuable
and important of all the Platonic compositions; proper to be
studied first,as a key to all the rest. Such was the view of

1 Plato, Alkib. if. p. 148.
3 Plato, Alkib. ii. p. 150.

18 ALKIBIADES I. AND I. Cap. XII.

Jamblichus and Proklus, transmitted to modern times ; until it
received a harsh contradiction from Schleiermacher, who declared
the dialogue to be both worthless and spurious. The Second
Alkibiadés was also admitted both by Thrasyllus, and by the
general body of critics in ancient times: but there were some
persons (as we learn from Athenzeus)! who considered it to be a
work of Xenophon ; perceiving probably (what is the fact) that
it bears much analogy to several conversations which Xenophon
has set down. But those who held this opinion are not to be
considered as of one mind with critics who reject the dialogue as
a forgery or imitation of Plato. Compositions emanating from
Xenophon are just as much Sokratic, probably even more So-
kratic, than the most unquestioned Platonic dialogues, besides
that they must of necessity be contemporary also. Schleier-
macher has gone much farther: declaring the Second as well as
the First to be an unworthy imitation of Plato.*

Here Ast agrees with Schleiermacher fully, including both
Grounds for [86 First and Second Alkibiadés in his large list of the
disallowing spurious. Most of the subsequent critics go with
song Schleiermacher .only half-way: Socher, Hermann,
against the Stallbaum, Steinhart, Susemihl, recognise the First

nst ‘Alkibiadés, but disallow the Second.* In my judg-

First, ment, Schleiermacher and Ast are more consistently
right, or more consistently wrong, in rejecting both, than the
other critics who find or make so capital a distinction between
the two. The similarity of tone and topics between the two is
obvious, and is indeed admitted by all. Moreover, if I were
compelled to make a choice, I should say that the grounds for
suspicion are rather less strong against the Second than against
the First ; and that Schleiermacher, reasoning upon the objec-
tions admitted by his opponents as conclusive against the Second,
would have no difficulty in showing that his own objections
against the First were still more forcible. The long speech

ΤΕ oe sander pater τὺ
er- Η °
macher to Alkib. i ii. vol. fii. p. P and if vol. v. pp. 171-304. F.

K.
. KEinleitung to Alkib. ii. part Hermann, Geach. und Syst. der Platon.
i. vol. fp. 508 soa. His notes on the Philos. p. 490-450. Sielabart, inlet
ditional ressons, besides what is urged tae’hfulioe Uebersetsung des Plaats
m
in his Introduction. rerke, OL. ἢ pp. 185-600. “ ᾿

Cnap. XII. GENUINENESS OF THE DIALOGUES. 19

assigned in the First Alkibiadés to Sokrates, about the privileges
of the Spartan and Persian kings,’ including the mention of
Zoroaster, son of Oromazes, and the Magian religion, appears to
me more unusual with Plato than anything which I find in the
Second Alkibiadés. It is more Xenophontic 3 than Platonic.

But I must here repeat, that because I find, in this or any
other dialogue, some peculiarities not usual with
Plato, I do not feel warranted thereby in declaring posed
the dialogue spurious. In my judgment, we must Wounds ἴον
look for a large measure of diversity in the various 2nce are in
dialogues ; and I think it an injudicious novelty, marks of
introduced by Schleiermacher, to set up a canonical ‘TY:
type of Platonism, all deviations from which are to be rejected as
forgeries. Both the First and the Second Alkibiadés appear to
me genuine, even upon the showing of those very critics who
disallow them. Schleiermacher, Stallbaum, and Steinhart, all
admit that there is in both the dialogues a considerable propor-
tion of Sokratic and Platonic ideas: but they maintain that
there are also other ideas which are not Sokratic or Platonic, and
that the texture, style, and prolixity of the Second Alkibiadés
(Schleiermacher maintains this about the First also) are un-
worthy of Plato. But if we grant these premisses, the reasonable
inference would be, not to disallow it altogether, but to admit it
as a work by Plato, of inferior merit ; perhaps of earlier days,
before his powers of composition had attained their maturity.
To presume that because Plato composed many excellent dia-
logues, therefore all that he composed must have been excellent,
—is a pretension formally disclaimed by many critics, and
asserted by none.* Steinhart himself allows that the Second
Alkibiadés, though not composed by Plato, is the work of some
other author contemporary, an untrained Sokratic disciple
attempting to imitate Plato. But we do not know that there

The sup-

1 Wate Alkib. i. , 121-124. 2 See Xenoph. C@konom. c. 4; στο
er reads objections in vil. δ, 58:64, vill. 1, 5-8-45 ;
Stelbocts Einleitung 148-150) ub. c. 15.
the First Alkib will see Stallbaum (Prolegg. ad Aleib. i.

they are quite as forcible as what p. 186) makes this general statement
he urges against the Second; only, that very justly, but he as well as other
in the case of the First, he gives to critics are apt to forget itin particular

ing lich tect tot sgniet fae" Siaabar, Rinltng, δι
e 516-619.
merit of the dialogue, but not against Stallbaum and Boec ὃς eed assign
its authenticity. the dialogue to a later period. Hein-

ALEIBIADES I..AND IL

CuapP. XIT.

were any contemporaries who tried to imitate Plato: though
Theopompus accused him of imitating others, and called most of
his dialogues useless as well as false : while Plato himself, in his
inferior works, will naturally appear like an imitator of his

better self.
I agree

phe two dia-
ogues may
probably be
among
Plato’s
earlier com-
positions.

with Schleiermacher and the other recent critics in
considering the First and Second Alkibiadés to be
inferior in merit to Plato’s best dialogues; and I con-
tend that their own premisses justify no more. They
may probably be among his earlier productions,
though I do not believe that the First Alkibiadés was

composed during the lifetime of Sokrates, as Socher, Steinhart,
and Stallbaum endeavour to show.? I have already given my

dorf (ad Lysin, p. 211) thinks it the work

*“ antiqui auctoris, sed non Platonis”.
8te and others who disallow
the authenticity of the Second Alki-
iadés, insist much (p. 518) nyon the
lunder,

of Archelaus king of Macedonia, who

was killed in $99 B.c., in the same year.

as Sokrates, and four years after Alki-
biades. Such an mism (Stein-
hart urges) Plato could:never allow
himself to commit. . Bat when we read
the Symposion, we find: Aristophanes
in a company of which Sokrates, Alki-
biades, and Agathon form a part, al-
lauding to the διοίκισις of Mantineia,
which took place in 386 B.c. . No one
has ever e this glari i
a d for disallowing the Sym-
podion. Steinhart says that the style
of the Second Alkibiadés copies Plato

i tonisirende

too closely (die ingstlich pla!
Sprache des Di p. 515), yet he
with Stallbaum that in several

1 Stallbaum refers the com tion
of Alkib. i. to a time ποὺ 1] ore
the accusation of Sokra: when the-
enemies of Sokrates were ting
him in co uence of his inti-
macy with biades (who had before

master (Prolegg.

eeitines Ona a littl to So-
wo oO Θ

place the con ΕΞ hey

Ῥ Θ com on of the Θ

earlier, in 406 B.c. (Steinhart, p. 151-

. 186). Socher and

remark that such.

162), and they consider it the first
exercise of Plato in the strict dialectic
method. Both Steinhart and Her-
mann (Gesch. Plat. Phil. p. 440) think
that the dialogue has not only a specu-
lative but a political purpose; to warn
and amend ibiades, and to prevent
him from surrendering himself blindly
to the democracy.

I cannot admit the hypothesis that
the dialogue was written in 406 B.C.
(when Plato was twenty-one years of
age, at most twenty-two), nor that it

any intended upon the
real historical Alkibiades, who left
Athens in 415 B.C. at the ead of the
armament against Syracuse, was
banished three months afterwards, and
never came back to Athens until Ma
407 B.C. (Xenoph. Hellen. i. 4, 18;
5,17). He then enjoyed four months
of t ascendancy at Athens, left it
at the head of the fleet to Asia in Oct.
407 B.C., remained in command of the
fleet for about three months or so, thea
fell into disgrace and retired to Cher-

. sonese, never revisiting Athens. In

406 B.C. Alkibiades was in
banishment, out of the reach of all
such warnings as Hermann and Stein-
hart suppose that Plato intended to
address to him in Alkib. i.

Steinhart says (Ὁ. 152), ‘‘In dieser
Zeit also, wenige Jahre nach seiner tri-
umphirenden Rickkehr, wo Alkibiades,”
&. Now Alkibiades left the Athenian
service, irrevocably, wi less than one
year after his triumphant return.

Steinhart has not realised in his
mind the historical and chronological
conditions of the period.

CHap. XII. XENOPHONTIC MEMORABILIA COMPARED. 21

reasons, in ἃ previous chapter, for believing that Plato composed
no dialogues at all during the lifetime of Sokrates ; still less in
that of Alkibiadés, who died four years earlier. There is cer-
tainly nothing in either Alkibiadés I. or II. to shake this
belief.

If we compare various colloquies of Sokrates in the Xeno-
phontic Memorabilia, we shall find Alkibiadés I. Analo
and II. very analogous to them both in purpose and with various
spirit. In Alkibiadés I. the situation conceived is (i#logues in

eno-

the same as that of Sokrates and Glaukon, in the phontic 49’
third book of the Memorabilia. Xenophon recounts Purpose of
how the presumptuous Glaukon, hardly twenty years jumble pre-
of age, fancied himself already fit to play aconspicuous sumptuous
part in public affairs, and tried to force himself, in young men.
spite of rebuffs and humiliations, upon the notice of the assembly.!
No remonstrances of friends could deter him, nor could anything,
except the ingenious dialectic of Sokrates, convince him of his
own impertinent forwardness and exaggerated self-estimation.
Probably Plato (Glaukon’s elder brother) had heard of this con-
- versation, but whether the fact be so or not, we see the same
situation idealised by him in Alkibiadés I., and worked out in a
way of his own. Again, we find in the Xenophontic Memora-
bilia another colloquy, wherein Sokrates cross-questions, per-
plexes, and humiliates, the studious youth Euthydemus,? whom
he regards as over-confident in his persuasions and too well
satisfied with himself. It was among the specialties of Sokrates
to humiliate confident young men, with a view to their future
improvement. He made his conversation “an instrument of
chastisement,” in the language of Xenophon : or (to use a phrase
of Plato himself in the Lysis) he conceived “that the proper way
of talking to youth whom you love, was, not to exalt and puff
them up, but to subdue and humiliate them ”.*
If Plato wished to idealise this feature in the character of

yo - oph. Memor. iii. 6, . ἄς. ΤΣ ἐπὶ the to Sok Lysis, the
ou ysis says krates, ‘ ‘Talk
enoph. Mem. iv. 2. OM enexenus, ἵν᾽ αὐτὸν «xo »

3 Xenoph. Mem. i 4,1. σκεψάμενο Plat. Lysis, 211 B) And So

μὴ μόνον ya éxeivos (S okrates) κὸ λα. -himself says, a few lines before (210
στηρίον ἕνεκα τούς πάντ᾽ οἰομένους Ἐ), Οὕτω χρὴ τοῖς παιδικοῖς διαλέγεσθαι,
εἰδέναι ἐρωτῶν ἥλεγχεν, ἀλλὰ καὶ ἃ ταπεινοῦντα καὶ συστέλλοντα, καὶ μὴ
λέγων σννημέρενε τοις συνδιατρίβουσιν, ὥσπερ σὺ χαυνοῦντα καὶ διαθρύπτοντα.

22 ALKIBIADES L AND I. Cuap. XII.

Sokrates, no name could be more suitable to his pur-
thename pose than that of Alkibiadés: who, having possessed
and charac- as a youth the greatest personal beauty (to which
biadesfor Sokrates was exquisitely sensible) had become in his
this feature mature life distinguished not less for unprincipled
* ambition and insolence, than for energy and ability.
We know the real Alkibiadés both from Thucydides and Xeno-
phon, and we also know that Alkibiades had in his youth so far
frequented the society of Sokrates as to catch some of that dia-
lectic ingenuity, which the latter was expected and believed to
impart.! The contrast, as well as the companionship, between
_ Sokrates and Alkibiades was eminently suggestive to the writers

of Sokratic dialogues, and nearly all of them made use of it,
composing dialogues in which Alkibiades was the principal name
and figure.* It would be surprising indeed if Plato had never
done the same: which is what we must suppose, if we adopt
Schleiermacher’s view, that both Alkibiadés I. and II. are
spurious. In the Protagoras as well as in the Symposion, Alki-
biades figures ; but in neither of them is he the principal person,
or titular hero, of the piece. In Alkibiadés I. and IL, he is
introduced as the solitary respondent to the questions of Sokrates
—xoXaotnpiov ἕνεκα : to receive from Sokrates a lesson of humi-
liation such as the Xenophontic Sokrates administers to Glau-
kon and Euthydemus, taking care to address the latter when
alone.®

I conceive Alkibiadés I. and 11. as ‘composed by Plato among
Plato's his earlier writings:-(perhaps between 399-390 B.c.)‘
/ Mannerof giving an imaginary picture of the way in which

1The sensibility of Sokrates to Alcib. i. p. 215, 2nd ed.), “‘Ceterum
thful beauty is as strongly declared etiam chines, Euclides, Phsedon, et
the Xenophontic Memorabilia (i. 8, Antisthenes, dialogos Alcibiadis nomine
8-14), as in the Platonic Lysis, inscriptos composuisse narrantur”.
midés, or Symposion. Respecting the dialogues composed
The conversation reported by Xeno- b aoe see the first note to this
phon between Alkibiades, when not
yet twenty ears of , and his a Xeno h. Mem. iv. 2, 8.
es, the man in (The date which ΤΌΝ ppose for
thens—wherein Alkibiades puzzles the composition of Alkib. i. (ic. after
Perikles by a Sokratic cross-examina- the dea of Sokrates, but early in the

sustained |
with Sokrates (Xen. Memor. place it in or 402 B.C. before
1. 2 40). e death of Bokratos) by the long dis
Stallbaum observes (Prolegg. ad course (Ὁ. 121-124

CuapP. XII. FITNESS OF THE NAME.

“Sokrates handled every. respondent just as he
chose” (to use the literal phrase of Xenophon’):
taming even that most overbearing youth, whom
Aristophanes characterises as the lion’s whelp.* In
selecting Alkibiades as the sufferer under such a
chastising process, Plato rebuts in his own ideal style
that charge which Xenophon answers with prosaic directness—
the charge made against Sokrates by his enemies, that he taught
political craft without teaching ethical sobriety ; and that he had
encouraged by his training the lawless propensities of AJki-
biades.? When Schleiermacher, and others who disallow the
dialogue, argue that the inordinate insolence ascribed to Alki-
biades, and the submissive deference towards Sokrates also
ascribed to him, are incongruous and incompatible attributes,—
I reply that such a conjunction is very improbable in any real
character. But this does not hinder Plato from combining them
in one and the same ideal character, as we shall farther see when
we come to the manifestation of Alkibiades in the Symposion :

the Persian and Spartan kings. In
reference to the Persian monarch
Sokrates says (p. 153 B), ἐπεί mor’
ἐγὼ ἤκουσα ἀνδρὺς ἀξιοπίστον τῶν ava-
βεβηκότων παρὰ βασιλέα, ὃς ἔφη waped-
θεῖν χώραν wavy πολλὴν καὶ ἀγαθήν---

and the Spartan
kings were then in the maximum of

ἣν καλεῖν τοὺς εκ χωρίους ζώνην τῆς
βασιλέως ympiodorus
and the Scholiast both suppose that
Plato here refers to Xenophon and the
Anabasis, in which a statement very
like this is found (i. 4, 9). Itis plain,
therefore, that they did not consider
the dialogue to have been composed
before the death of Sokrates. I thi

it v robable that Plato had in
his minc Xenophon (either his Ana-
basis, or personal communications with
him); but at any rate visits of Greeks
to the Persian court became very nu-
merous between 899-390 B.C., whereas
Plato can hardly have seen any such
visitors at Athens in 406 B.C. ore
the close of the war), nor probably in
402 B.c., when Athens, though relieved

wer and ascendancy—it is no wonder
erefore that | Sokrates should here be
made well upon their ous
dignity in his discourse we ae
biades. Steinhart (Einl. p. 150) feels
the difficulty of reconciling this 1
of the dialogue with his hypothesis
that it was composed in 406 B.c.: yet
he and Stallbaum both insist that it
Month ots krates, for hi h they weally
of So. or whic
produce no grounds at all. ad

1 Xen. Mem. i. 2, 14. τοῖς δὲ δια-
λεγομένοις αὐτῷ πᾶσι χρώμενον ἐν τοῖς
λόγοις ὅπως βούλοιτο.

3 Aristoph. Ran. 1481. οὐ χρὴ
λέοντος σκύμνον ἐν πόλει τρέφειν.

Zhucrd. vi. 15. φοβηθέντες γὰρ αὐτοῦ

: sats (Alkib.) of πολλοὶ τὸ os τῆς Te
from the o hy, was still in a state ὁ τὰ -) ero ann tates μίας ἧς

of great public prostration. Between
899 B.c. and the peace of Antalkidas
887 B.C.), visitors from Greece to the

terior of Persia became more and
more frequent, the Persian kings in-
terfering very actively in Grecian

διανοίας ὧν καθ᾽
ἔγνοιτο, ἔπρασσεν,
μοῦντι πολέμιοι

τὴν δίαιταν, καὶ τῆς
ἕν ἕκαστον, ἐν ὅτῳ

ὡς τυραννίδος ἐπ
καθέστασαν, &.

8 Xenoph. Memorab. i. 2, 17.

94 ALKIBIADES I. AND IL Cuap. XII.

in which dialogue we find a combination of the same elements,
still more extravagant and high-coloured. Both here and there
we are made to see that Sokrates, far from encouraging Alki-
biades, is the only person who ever succeeded in humbling him.
Plato attributes to the personality and conversation of Sokrates
an influence magical and almost superhuman: which Cicero and
Plutarch, proceeding probably upon the evidence of the Platonic
dialogues, describe as if it were historical fact. They represent
Alkibiades as shedding tears of sorrow and shame, and entreating
Sokrates to rescue him from a sense of degradation insupportably
painful’ Now Xenophon mentions Euthydemus and other
young men as having really experienced these profound and
distressing emotions? But he does not at all certify the same
about Alkibiades, whose historical career is altogether adverse to
the hypothesis. The Platonic picture is an tdéal, drawn from
what may have been actually true about other interlocutors of
Sokrates, and calculated to reply to Melétus and his allies.
Looking at Alkibiadés I. and II. in this point of view, we shall
The purpose find both of them perfectly Sokratic both in topics
caimed and in manner—whatever may be said about un-
inthe Apo- necessary prolixity and common-place here and there.
lowed outin The leading ideas of Alkibiadés 1. may be found,
Alkib. L nearly all, in the Platonic Apology. That warfare,
against the which Sokrates proclaims in the Apology as having
suasion of been the mission of his life, against the false persua-
knowledge. sion of knowledge, or against beliefs ethical and
esthetical, firmly entertained without having been preceded by
conscious study or subjected to serious examination—is exem-
plified in Alkibiadés I. and 11. as emphatically as in any
Platonic composition. In both these dialogues, indeed (especially
in the first), we find an excessive repetition of specialising
illustrations, often needless and sometimes tiresome: a defect
easily intelligible if we assume them to have been written when
Plato was still a novice in the art of dialogic composition. But
both dialogues are fully impregnated with the spirit of the
Sokratic process, exposing, though with exuberant prolixity, the

Se ἀν ν i Compere Pinte, 2 Alkib. og 127 D, 185 C; Symposion,
3 Xenoph. Memor. rae 2 50-40.

«ΗΔ». XII. PURPOSE OF THE DIALOGUE. 25

firm and universal belief, held and affirmed by every one even at
the age of boyhood, without any assignable grounds or modes of
acquisition, and amidst angry discordance between the affirmation
of one man and another. The emphasis too with which Sokrates
insists upon his own single function of merely questioning, and
upon the fact that Alkibiades gives all the answers and pro-
nounces all the self-condemnation with his own mouth !—is
remarkable in this dialogue: as well as the confidence with
which he proclaims the dialogue as affording the only, but
effective, cure? The ignorance of which Alkibiades stands
unexpectedly convicted, is expressly declared to be common to
him with the other Athenian politicians:.an exception being
half allowed to pass in favour of the semi-philosophical Perikles,
whom Plato judges here with less severity than elsewhere ?—
and a decided superiority being claimed for the Spartan and .
Persian kings, who are extolled as systematically trained from
childhood.

The main purpose of Sokrates is to drive Alkibiades into self-
contradictions, and to force upon him a painful con- piscuities
sciousness of ignorance and mental defect, upon grave forte pur
and important subjects, while he is yet young enough pose of
to amend it. Towards this purpose he is made to lay 4inibis
claim to a divine mission similar to that which the toa convic
real Sokrates announces in the Apology.‘ A number oon igno-
of perplexing questions and difficulties are accumu- ™“"*
lated: it is not meant that these difficulties are insoluble, but
that they cannot be solved by one who has never seriously
reflected on them—by one who (as the Xenophontic Sokrates
says to Euthydemus),® is so confident of knowing the subject that
he has never meditated upon it at all. The disheartened Alki-
biades feels the necessity of improving himself and supplicates
the assistance of Sokrates: who reminds him that he must first
determine what “Himself” is. Here again we find ourselves upon
the track of Sokrates in the Platonic Apology, and under the
influence of the memorable inscription at Delphi—Nosce teipsum.
Your mind is yourself: your body is a mere instrument of your

1 Plato, Alkib. i. Ὁ. 112-113 5 Xenoph. Mem. iv. 2, 86. ᾿Αλλὰ

3 Plato, Alkib. i. p. 127 E. ταῦτα μέν, ἔφη a ὃ Σωκράτης, ἴ tows, διὰ τὸ

Plato, Alkib. i. p. 118-120. σφόδρα πιστεύειν εἰδέναι, οὐδ᾽ ἔσκεψαι.
4 Plate’ Alkib. £ p. 124 C—127 E. 6 Plato, Alkib. i. p. 128-182 A.

26 ALEIBIADES I. AND IL Cuap. XII.

mind: your wealth and power are simple appurtenances or
adjuncts. To know yourself, which is genuine Sophrosyné or
temperance, is to know your mind: but this can only be done by
looking into another mind, and into its most intelligent com-
partment : just as the eye can only see itself by looking into the
centre of vision of another eye.!

At the same time, when, after having convicted Alkibiades of
Sokrates ceplorable ignorance, Sokrates is called upon to pre-
farnishesno scribe -remedies—all distinctness of indication dis-

solvin appears. It is exacted only when the purpose is to
these αἱ i. bring difficulties and contradictions to view: it is dis-

exhortsto pensed with, when the purpose isto solve them. The
Virtue—but conclusion is, that assuming happiness as the acknow-
eseare edged ultimate end,* Alkibiades cannot secure this
ledged In- either for himself or for his city, by striving for
comnita. wealth and power, private or public: he can only
secure it by acquiring for himself, and implanting in his country-
men, justice, temperance, and virtue. This is perfectly Sokratic,
and conformable to what is said by the real Sokrates in the
Platonic Apology. But coming at the close of Alkibiadés I., it
presents no meaning and imparts no instruction: because
Sokrates had shown in the earlier part of the dialogue, that
neither he himself, nor Alkibiades, nor the general public, knew
what justice and virtue were. The positive solution which
Sokrates professes to give, is therefore illusory. He throws us
back upon those old, familiar, emotional, associations, unconscious
products and unexamined transmissions from mind to mind—
which he had already shown to represent the fancy of knowledge
without the reality—deep-seated belief without any assignable
intellectual basis, or outward standard of rectitude.
Throughout the various Platonic dialogues, we find alternately
Prolixity of tW0 distinct and opposite methods of handling—the
Alkibis des generalising of the special, and the specialising of the
maltplica- general. In Alkibiadés I., the specialising of the
tion ο illus- general preponderates—as it does in most of the con-

Θ ex-
amples versations of the Xenophontic Memorabilia: the

Alkib. i. p. 138, co-operating in dialectic colloquy.
4 P Platonic mete hor, illustra
the necessity for two separate min inde * Plat. Alkibiad. i. p. 184.

CHap. XII. WHY 80 PROLIX. 27

number of exemplifying particulars is unusually How ex-
plained.
great. Sokrates does not accept as an answer a
general term, without illustrating it by several of the specific
terms comprehended under it: and this several times on occa-
sions when an instructed reader thinks it superfluous and tire-
some: hence, partly, the inclination of some modern critics to
disallow the dialogue. But we must recollect that though a
modern reader practised in the use of general terms may seize
the meaning at once, an Athenian youth of the Platonic age
would not be sure of doing the same. No conscious analysis had
yet been applied to general terms: no grammar or logic then
entered into education. Confident affirmation, without fully
knowing the meaning of what is affirmed, is. the besetting sin
against which Plato here makes war: and his precautions for
exposing it are pushed to extreme minuteness. So, too, in the
Sophistés and Politikus, when he wishes to illustrate the process
of logical division and subdivision, he applies it to cases so trifling
and so multiplied, that Socher is revolted and rejects the dia-
logues altogether. But Plato himself foresees and replies to the
objection ; declaring expressly that his main purpose is, not to
expound the particular subject chosen, but to make manifest and
familiar the steps and conditions of the general classifying pro-
cess—and that prolixity cannot be avoided.1 We must reckon
upon a similar purpose in Alkibiadés I. The dialogue is a speci-
men of that which Aristotle calls Inductive Dialectic, as distin-
guished from Syllogistic: the Inductive he tonsiders to be plainer
and easier, suitable when you have an ordinary collocutor—the
Syllogistic is the more cogent, when you are dealing with a prac-
tised disputant.*

It has been seen that Alkibiadés L, though professing to give
something like a solution, gives what is really no solu- Alkibiaaé
tion at all. Alkibiadés IL, similar in many respects, ΤΙ leavesits
is here different, inasmuch as it does not even pro- Peony
fess to solve the difficulty which had been raised. undeter-
The general mental defect—false persuasion of know- mined.

1 Plato, Politikus, 285-286. yeyn πιθανώτε ν καὶ σαφέστερον καὶ

Aristotel. Topic. i 104, ἃ. 16. κατὰ τὴν αἵ ἐιμώτερον καὶ

Πόσα τῶν λόγων εἴδη τῶν διαλεκτικῶν τοῖς πολλοῖς κοινόν - ὁ 38 σνλλογισμὸς

--στι δὲ τὸ μὲν ἐπαγωγή, ἃ βιαστικώτερον καὶ πρὸς τοὺς ἀντιλογι-
σνλλογισμός . . .. ἔστι ὃ ly le enes κοὺς ἐνεργέστερον.

28 ALKIBIADES I. AND II. CHaP. XII.

ledge without the reality—is presented in its application to a
particular case. Alkibiades is obliged to admit that he does not
know what he ought to pray to the Gods for: neither what is
good, to be granted, nor what is evtl, to be averted. He relies
upon Sokrates for dispelling this mist from his mind: which
Sokrates promises to do, but adjourns for another occasion.
Sokrates here ascribes to the Spartans, and to various philo-
Sokrates S0phers, the practice of putting up prayers in unde-
ἘΣΤΕ fined language, for good and honourable things gene-
of of pra ying ally. He commends that practice. Xenophon tells
fo the Gods us that the historical Sokrates observed 10:1 but he
undefined— tells us also that the historical Sokrates, though not
about the praying for any special presents from the Gods, yet
lar, sem prayed for and believed himself to receive special
revelations and advice as to what was good to be done
agency of or avoided in particular cases. He held that these
He praysto special revelations were essential to any tolerable
premonitory life: that the dispensations of the Gods, though
warnings. + administered upon regular principles on certain sub-
jects and up to a certain point, were kept by them designedly
inscrutable beyond that point: but that the Gods would, if
properly solicited, afford premonitory warnings to any favoured
person, such as would enable him to keep out of the way of evil,
and put himself in the way of good. He declared that to consult
‘and obey oracles and prophets was not less a maxim of prudence
than a duty of piety: for himself, he was farther privileged
through his divine sign or monitor, which he implicitly fol-
lowed.?, Such premonitory warnings were the only special
favour which he thought it suitable to pray for—besides good
things generally. For special presents he did not pray, because
he professed not to know whether any of the ordinary objects of
desire were good or bad. He proves in his conversation with
Euthydémus, that all those acquisitions which are usually
accounted means of happiness—beauty, strengths wealth, reputa-

1 Xenoph. Mem. i. 8, 2; Plat. Alk. ἔδωκαν οἱ θεοί, άνειν" ἃ δὲ ἐὶ δῆλα
ii. Ppl 43-148. τοῖς ἀνθρώποις στί, πειρᾶσθαι ὃ ἃ μαν-
These opinions of Sokrates are παρὰ τὸν θεῶν πυνθάνεσθαι. τοὺς
announced in various of the decks γάρ ἂν ὦσιν » σημαίνειν
Xenophontic Memorab 1, 1-10— —i. 8,4; eee’ ri ois; iv. 8, 123 iv. 7, 10
ἔφη δὲ δεῖν, ἃ μὲν μαθόντας ποιεῖν iv. 8, ‘6-11.

Cuap. XII. PRAYER AND SACRIFICE.

tion, nay, even good health ahd wisdom—are sometimes good or
causes of happiness, sometimes evil or causes of misery; and
therefore cannot be considered either as absolutely the one or

absolutely the other.!

This impossibility of determining what is good and what is

evil, in consequence of the uncertainty in the dispen-
sations of the Gods and in human affairs—is a doc-
trine forcibly insisted on by the Xenophontic Sokrates
in his discourse with Euthydémus, and much akin to
the Platonic Alkibiadés II., being applied to the
special case of prayer. But we must not suppose that
Sokrates adheres to this doctrine throughout all the
colloquies of the Xenophontic Memorabilia: on the
contrary, we find him, in other places, reasoning
upon such matters, as health, strength, and wisdom,
as if they were decidedly good.? The fact is, that the

Comparison
of Alkibia-
dés II. with
the Xeno-
hontic
emora-
bilia, espe-
cially the
conversa-
tion of
Sokrates
with Euthy-
demus. So-
krates not
always con-
sistent with
himself.

arguments of Sokrates, in the Xenophontic Memora-

bilia, vary materially according to the occasion and the person
with whom he is discoursing: and the case is similar with the
Platonic dialogues: illustrating farther the questionable evidence
on which Schleiermacher and other critics proceed, when they
declare one dialogue to be spurious, because it contains reasoning
inconsistent with another.

We find in Alkibiadés II. another doctrine which is also pro-
claimed by Sokrates in the Xenophontic Memorabilia: that the
Gods are not moved by costly sacrifice more than by humble
sacrifice, according to the circumstances of the offerer:*® they
attend only to the mind of the offerer, whether he be just and
wise: that is, “whether he knows what ought to be done both
towards Gods and towards men”.

But we find also in Alkibiadés II. another doctrine, more remark-

able. Sokrates will not proclaim absolutely that
knowledge is good, and that ignorance is evil. In
some cases, he contends, ignorance is good ; and he
discriminates which the cases are. That which we

Remarkable.
doctrine of
Alkibiadés
IIl.—That
knowledge

1Xenoph. Memor. iv. 2, 81-82-36. —segiay 2 τὸ PARC ἢ ἀγαθόν, ἂς.

Tatra οὖν ποτὲ μὲν ὠφελοῦντα ποτὲ δὲ
βλάπτοντα, τί μᾶλλον ἀγαθὰ ἣ κακά Mem. i
ἐστιν

3 For example, Xen. Mem. iv. 5, 6

Com

re Plato,
p. 885 -Teokra’ Nikok.
4 Plato, Alkib. ii. p. 149 E, 150 B.

ib. ii. p. 149-150; Xen.

Lege. x.

30 ALKIBIADES I. AND IL Cuap. XII.

isnotalvays are principally interested in knowing, is Good, or
knowledge The Best—The Profitable:} phrases used as equiva-
of Good it lent. The knowledge of this is good, and the igno-
pensabl ; rance of it mischievous, under all supposable circum-
that, the stances. And if a man knows good, the more he
knowledge knows of everything else, the better ; since he will
thingsis be sure to make a good use of his knowledge. But if
more hart- he does not know good, the knowledge of other things
beneficial. will be hurtful rather than beneficial to him. To be
skilful in particular arts and accomplishments, under the capital
mental deficiency supposed, will render him an instrument of
evil and not of good. The more he knows—and the more he
believes himself to know—the more forward will he be in
acting, and therefore the greater amount of harm will he do.
It is better that he should act as little as possible. Such ἃ
man is not fit to direct his own conduct, like a freeman: he
must be directed and controlled by others, like a slave. The
greater number of mankind are fools of this description—
ignorant of good: the wise men who know good, and are fit
to direct, are very few. The wise man alone, knowing good,
follows reason: the rest trust to opinion, without reason.? He
alone is competent to direct both his own conduct and that of the
society.

The stress which is laid here upon the knowledge of good, as
distinguished from all other varieties of knowledge—the identi- -
fication of the good with the profitable, and of the knowledge of
good with reason (νοῦς), while other varieties of knowledge are
ranked with opinion (8d£a)—these are points which, under one
phraseology or another, pervade many of the Platonic dialogues,
The old phrase of Herakleitus—IloAupa6in νόον οὐ διδάσκει----
“much learning does not teach reason”—seems to have been
present to the mind of Plato in composing this dialogue. The
man of much learning and art, without the knowledge of good,
and surrendering himself to the guidance of one or other among

ipa 1 Plato, Alkib. ii. p. 145 C. Ὅστις ἡ τοῦ ὠφελίμου--- 8150 146 B.

τι τῶν τοιούτων οἶδεν, ἐὰν μὲν ἈῬιαίο, Alk. fi. p. 146 A-D. ἄνεν

παρόπηται. ἡ τοῦ ,βελτίστον ἐπισ-
τήμη --Οπὑτὴ ὃ 3S ἡ αὑτὴ δήπον ἧπερ καὶ νοῦ δόξῃ πεπιστευκότας,

Cuap. XIL “GoopD” EXTOLLED BUT NOT DEFINED. 31

his accomplishments, is like a vessel tossed about at sea without
a pilot.!

What Plato here calls the knowledge of Good, or Reason—
the just discrimination and comparative appreciation ynowledge
of Ends and Means—appears in the Politikus and of Good— .
Euthydémus, under the title of the Regal or Political tulated and
Art, of employing or directing? the results of all ΡΟΝ the
other arts, which are considered as subordinate : in Platonic

the Protagoras, under the title of art of calculation or dialogues,
mensuration : in the Philébus, as measure and pro- ‘erenttitles.
portion : in the Phzedrus (in regard to rhetoric) as the art of
.turning to account, for the main purpose of persuasion, all the
special processes, stratagems, decorations, &., imparted by pro-
fessional masters. In the Republic, it is personified in the few
venerable Elders who constitute the Reason of the society, and
whose directions all the rest (Guardians and Producers) are
bound implicitly to follow : the virtue of the subordinates con-
sisting in this implicit obedience. In the Leges, it is defined as
the complete subjection in the mind, of pleasures and pains to
right Reason,* without which, no special aptitudes are worth
having. In the Xenophontic Memorabilia, it stands as a Sokratic
authority under the title of Sophrosyné or Temperance :* and
the Profitable is declared identical with the Good, as the direct-
ing and limiting principle for all human pursuits and proceed-
ings.®

But what are we to understand by the Good, about the Good—
which there are so many disputes, according to the ΤᾺ Profit
acknowledgment of Plato as well as of Sokrates? isit? How
And what are we to understand by the Profitable? know it?
In what relation does it stand to the Pleasurable and Fate leaves
the Painful ? termined.

These are points which Plato here leaves undetermined. We
shall find him again touching them, and trying different ways of
determining them, in the Protagoras, the Gorgias, the Republic,

1 Plato, Alkib. fi. p. 147 A. ὃ δὲ δὴ 805 A; Euthydémus, 201 B, 202 B.
τὴν καλουμένην πολυμάθειάν τε καὶ woAv- Compare Xenophon, (konomicus, i.
«εχνίαν κεκτημένος, ὄρφανος δὲ ὧν rav- 8, 18. ᾿
τῆς τῆς ἐπιστήμης, ἀγόμενος δὲ ὑπὸ 3 Leges, iii. 689 A-D, 691 A.

as ἑκάστης τῶν ἄλλων, . *Xenoph. Memor. i. 9, 17: iv. 8, 1.
2 Plato, Politikus, 292 B, 804 B, 5 Xenoph. Memor. iv. 6, 8; iv. 7, 7.

32 ALKIBIADES I. AND II. CuHap. XI.

and elsewhere. We have here the title and the postulate, but
nothing more, of a comprehensive Teleology, or right comparative
estimate of ends and means one against another, so as to decide
when, how far, under what circumstances, &c., each ought to be
pursued. We shall see what Plato does in other dialogues to
connect this title and postulate with a more definite meaning.

CuHap. XTIL HIPPIAS MAJOR.

CHAPTER XIII,

HIPPIAS MAJOR—HIPPIAS MINOR.

Bors these two dialogues are carried on between Sokrates and

the Eleian Sophist Hippias. The general conception

of Hippias—described as accomplished, eloquent, and Mas.

successful, yet made to say vain and silly things—is
the same in both dialogues: in both also the polemics
of Sokrates against him are conducted in a like
spirit, of affected deference mingled with insulting
sarcasm. Indeed the figure assigned to Hippias is so
contemptible, that even an admiring critic like Stall-

against
Hippias.

baum cannot avoid noticing the “ petulans pene et proterva in
Hippiam oratio,” and intimating that Plato has handled Hippias
more coarsely than any one else. Such petulance Stallbaum
attempts to excuse by saying that the dialogue is a youthful com-
position of Plato : 1 while Schleiermacher numbers it among the

1 Stallbaum, Frotegs. in Hipp. Maj. a critic take pleasure in a comedy
in

5 243) isto a afte tpo faste
. 42 who says, ranonutpouring are ne
δ his usual invective the them, in his own da

(Einleitung, wherein sil] and ridiculous es
upon the name of one o

Sophist :--- Nevertheless e coarse honoured but acknowledged as deserv-
jesting of the dialogue seems almost to ing honour by remarkable and varied
exceed the admissible limit of comic accomplishments—and to make the

Again, p. 50 Steinhart critic describe the historical Hippias

less cruel (grausam) than purposel 89
tormenting him with a string of suc- delivered these speeches, or something

cessive new propositions about the equally absurd.
©

definition of
tions, as fast as Hippias catches at is doubtless a

em, he again withdraws of his own

utifal, which pro- How this comedy may be appreciated
of individual
taste. For my part, I agree with Ast

and thus at last dismisses him in thinking it misplaced and unbecom-
(as he dismissed Ion) uninstructed ing: and I am not surprised that he

and unimproved, without even leaving wishes to remove the dialogue from the
behind in the sting of anger, &c. Platonic canon, though I do not concar
tred against this inf i

or in the

It requires a powerfal ha either 5 erence,
the persons called Sophiste, to make general principle on which it proceeds,

2—3

HIPPIAS MAJOR. Caap. XIIL

reasons for suspecting the dialogue, and Ast, among the reasons
for declaring positively that Plato is not the author! This last
conclusion I do not at all accept: nor even the hypothesis of
Stallbaum, if it be tendered as an excuse for improprieties of
tone: for I believe that the earliest of Plato’s dialogues was
composed after he was twenty-eight years of age—that is, after
the death of Sokrates. It is however noway improbable, that
both the Greater and Lesser Hippias may have been among
Plato’s earlier compositions. We see by the Memorabilia of
Xenophon that there was repeated and acrimonious controversy
between Sokrates and Hippias: so that we may probably suppose
feelings of special dislike, determining Plato to compose two
distinct dialogues, in which an imaginary Hippias is mocked and
scourged by an imaginary Sokrates.

One considerable point in the Hippias Major appears to have a
abate bearing on the debate between Sokrates and Hippias
betweenthe in the Xenophontic Memorabilia: in which debate,

Real d

ἮΝ and Hi
Ἂ in th

es |

ilia,
\ “Subject

_ historical = Hippias taunts Sokrates with always combating and

deriding the opinions of others, while evading to give

ι phontic Me. opinions of his own. It appears that some antecedent
debates between the two had turned upon the defini-

a of that de- tion of the Just, and that on these occasions Hippias |
had been the respondent, Sokrates the objector.

Hippias professes to have reflected upon these debates, and to be
now prepared with a definition which neither Sokrates nor any
one else can successfully assail, but he will not say what the

' definition is, until Sokrates has laid down one of his own. In
reply to this challenge, Sokrates declares the Just to be equiva-
lent to the Lawful or Customary: he defends this against various

aie cits ΞΕ Fiaton’s Leben und

on the glory of Piato

to.
Both K. F. Hermann and Socher
consider the oapPias to be not a
tip: belong toni mia on of Plato, but to

1 Schlei Einleitang. p. 401 ;
bea ‘und Scheiflea p. 457:

Crap. XIIL SOKRATES AND HIPPIAS. 35

objections of Hippias, who concludes by admitting it.1 Probably
this debate, as reported by Xenophon, or something very like it,
really took place. If so, we remark with surprise the feebleness
of the objections of Hippias, in a case where Sokrates, if he had
been the objector, would have found such strong ones—and the
feeble replies given by Sokrates, whose talent lay in starting and
enforcing difficulties, not in solving them.? Among the remarks
which Sokrates makes in illustration to Hippias, one is—that
Lykurgus had ensured superiority to Sparta by creating in the
Spartans a habit of implicit obedience to the laws.* Such is the
character of the Xenophontic debate.

Here, in the beginning of the Hippias Major, the Platonic
Sokrates remarks that Hippias has been long absent Opening of
from Athens: which absence, the latter explains, by the Hippias
saying that he has visited many cities in Greece, Hivpiss de-
giving lectures with great success, and receiving high scribes the
pay : and that especially he has often visited Sparta, circuit
partly to give lectures, but partly also to transact κα made
diplomatic business for his countrymen the Eleians, through
who trusted him more than any one else for such the renown
duties. His lectures (he says) were eminently in- .
structive and valuable for the training of youth: quired by
moreover they were so generally approved, that even
from a small Sicilian town called Tnykus, he obtained a con-
sidcrable sum in fees.

Upon this Sokrates asks—In which of the cities were your
gains the largest: probably at Sparta? Htip.—No; I
received nothing at all at Sparta. Sokr.—How ? met with
You amaze me! Were not your lectures calculated of Sparta.
᾿ς to improve the Spartan youth? or did not the Spar- why the
tans desire to have their youth improved? or had didnot
they no money? Hip.—Neither one nor the other. Sdmit his
The Spartans, like others, desire the improvement of tions. Their
their youth: they also have plenty of money: more-

2 enoph. Mom. iv 12-25. ati Νόμος en. Mem. i. 2, 42) the the
m e puraling questions es etermining e de-
which Alkibiades when a youth is finition ot Νό

occur also in deter-
reported to have addressed to Perikles, bot νόμιμον, which ‘includes
and which he must unquestionabl

both us ἦπε Scripta and Jus Moribus
have heard from Sokrates Receptum.
respecting the meaning of the word 3 Xen. Mem. iv. 4, 15.

36 HIPPIAS MAJOR. CHap. XIII.

over my lectures were very beneficial to them as well as to the
τοδὶ. Sokr.—How could it happen then, that at Sparta, a city
great and eminent for its good laws, your valuable instructions
were left unrewarded ; while you received so much at the
inconsiderable town of Inykus? Hip.—It is not the custom of
the country, Sokrates, for the Spartans to change their laws, or
to educate their sons in a way different from their ordinary
routine. Sokr.—How say you? It is not the custom of the
country for the Spartans to do right, but todo wrong?) Hip.—I
shall not say that, Sokrates. Sokr.—But surely they would do
right, in educating their children better and not worse? Hip.—
Yes, they would do right: but it is not lawful for them to admit
a foreign mode of education. If any one could have obtained
payment there for education, I should have obtained a great
deal ; for they listen to me with delight and applaud me: but,
as I told you, their law forbids.

Sokr.—Do you call law a hurt or benefit to the city? Htp.—
Question, Law is enacted with a view to benefit: but it some-
es’ Ια. times hurts, if it be badly enacted.2 Sokr.—But
lawmakers what? Do not the enactors enact it as the maximum
atthe Pro- Οἱ good, without which the citizens cannot live a
ftable, but regulated life? Hip—Certainly: they do so. Sokr.
failtoattain —Therefore, when those who try to enact laws miss
the attainment of good, they also miss the lawful and
whey fail'to law itself. How say you? Hip.—tThey do ao, if you
The lawful speak with strict propriety: but such is-not the lan-
fitable: the guage which men commonly use. Sokr.—What men?
Unprofit, the knowing? or the ignorant? Hip.—The Many.
uniawfol § Sokr.—The Many; is it they who know what truth
is? Hip.—Assuredly not. Sokr.—But surely those who do
know, account the profitable to be in truth more lawful than the
unprofitable, to all men. Don’t you admit this? Hip.—yYes, I
admit they account it so in truth. Sokr.—Well, and it is so, too:
the truth ἐδ as the knowing men account it. Htip.—Most cer-
tainly. Sokr.—Now you affirm, that it is more profitable to the
Spartans to be educated according to your scheme, foreign as it
is, than according to their own native scheme. Hip.—I affirm it,

1 Plato, Hipp. Maj. 288-284. 3 Plato, Hipp. Maj. 284 C-D.

Crap. XL WHAT IS LAW? 37

and with truth too. Sokr.—You affirm besides, that things more
profitable are at the same time more lawful? Hip.—lI said so.
Sokr.—According to your reasoning, then, it is more lawful for
the Spartan children to be educated by Hippias, and more
unlawful for them to be educated by their fathers—if in reality
they will be more benefited by you? Htp.—But they will be
more benefited by me. Sokr.—The Spartans therefore act un-
lawfully, when they refuse to give you money and to confide to
you their sons? Hip—I admit that they do: indeed your
reasoning seems to make in my favour, so that I am noway
called upon to resist it. Sokr.—We find then, after all, that the
Spartans are enemies of law, and that too in the most important
matters—though they are esteemed the most exemplary followers
of law.!

Perhaps Plato intended the above argument as a derisory taunt
against the Sophist Hippias, for being vain enough to
think his own tuition better than that of the Spartan Compariso i
community. If such was his intention, the argument ment of the
might have been retorted against Plato himself, for Sokrates
his propositions in the Republic and Leges: and we the xeno-
know that the enemies of Plato did taunt him with phontic —
his inability to get these schemes adopted in any
actual community. But the argument becomes interesting when
we compare it with the debate before referred to in the Xeno-
phontic Memorabilia, where Sokrates maintains against Hippias
that the Just is equivalent to the Lawful. In that Xenophontic
dialogue, all the difficulties which embarrass this explanation are
kept out of sight, and Sokrates is represented as gaining an easy
victory over Hippias. In this Platonic dialogue, the equivocal
use of the word νόμιμον is expressly adverted to, and Sokrates
reduces Hippias to a supposed absurdity, by making him pro-
nounce the Spartans to be enemies of law :—rapavépous bearing
a double sense, and the proposition being true in one sense, false
in the other. In the argument of the Platonic Sokrates, a law
which does not attain its intended purpose of benefiting the

1 Plato, Hipp. Maj. 285.

τιν

38 HIPPIAS MAJOR. CuHap. XIII.

community, is no law at all,—not lawful :! so that we are driven
back again upon the objections of Alkibiades against Perikles (in
the Xenophontic Memorabilia) in regard to what constitutes a
law. In the argument of the Xenophontic Sokrates, law means
a law actually established, by official authority or custom—and
the Spartans are produced as eminent examples of a lawfully
minded community. As far as we can assign positive opinion to
the Platonic Sokrates in the Hippias Major, he declares that the
profitable or useful (being that which men always aim at in
making law) is The Lawful, whether actually established or not :
and ‘that the unprofitable or hurtful (being that which men
always intend to escape) is The Unlawful, whether prescribed by
any living authority or not. This (he says) is the opinion of the
wise men who know: though the ignorant vulgar hold the con-
trary opinion. ‘The explanation of τὸ δίκαιον given by the
Xenophontic Sokrates (τὸ δίκαιον = τὸ νόμιμον), would be equiva-
lent, if we construe rd νόμιμον in the sense of the Platonic
Sokrates (in Hippias Major) as an affirmation that The Just was
the generally useful—Téd δίκαιον = τὸ κοινῇ σύμφερον.

There exists however in all this, a prevalent confusion between
Law (or the Lawful) as actually established, and Law
Good isthe (or the Lawful) as it ought to be established, in the

rofitable. judgment of the critic, or of those whom he follows :
e that is (to use the phrase of Mr. Austin in his ‘ Pro-
na vince of Jurisprudence’) Law as it would be, if it con-
ever gives— formed to its assumed measure or test. In the first of
this these senses, rd νόμιμον is not one and the same, but
always variable according to place and time—one thing at
adhere. Sparta, another thing elsewhere: accordingly it would
not satisfy the demand of Plato’s mind, when he asks for an ex-
planation of τὸ δίκαιον. It is an explanation in the second of the
two senses which Plate seeke—a common measure or test appli-
cable universally, at all times and places. In so far as he ever
finds one, it is that which I have mentioned above as delivered
by the Platonic Sokrates in this dialogue: viz., the Just or Good,
that which ought to be the measur or test of Law and Positive

‘ spare a similar argument of Sokrates against Thrasymachus—Republic,

Cuap. XIIL THE JUST IS THE BENEFICIAL. 39

Morality, is, the beneficial dr profitable. This (I repeat) is the
only approach to a solution which we ever find in Plato. But
this is seldom clearly enunciated, never systematically followed
out, and sometimes, in appearance, even denied.

I resume the thread of the Hippias Major. Sokrates asks
Hippias what sort of lectures they were that he de-
livered with so much success at Sparta? The Spar- Β
tans (Hippias replies) knew nothing and cared nothing
about letters, geometry, arithmetic, astronomy : but
they took delight in hearing tales about heroes, early ὅσ.
ancestors, foundation-legends of cities, &c., which his
mnemonic artifice enabled him to deliver.! The Spar-

tans delight in you (observes Sokrates) as children beautif

delight in old women’s tales. Yes (replies Hippias), Hine, and Λ
but that is not all: I discoursed to them also, recently, £7 youth.

about fine and honourable pursuits, much to their admiration : I
supposed a conversation between Nestor and Neoptolemus, after
the capture of Troy, in which the veteran, answering a question
put by his youthful companion, enlarged upon those pursuits
which it was fine, honourable, beautiful for a young man to
engage in. My discourse is excellent, and obtained from the
Spartans great applause. I am going to deliver it again here at
Athens, in the school-room of Pheidostratus, and I invite you,
Sokrates, to come and hear it, with as many friends as you can
bring.” .

I shall come willingly (replied Sokrates). But first answer
me one small question, which will rescue me from a Gu
present embarrassment. Just now, I was shamefully

puzzled in conversation with a friend, to whom I had prates, In
been praising some things as honourable and beauti- 8. friend in
ful,—blaming other things as mean and ugly. He ground. who
surprised me by the interrogation—How do you peed ΝΩ͂Ν
know, Sokrates, what things are beautiful, and what 4 him
are ugly? Come now, can you tell me, What is the What is the

Beautiful? I,in my stupidity, was altogether puzzled,
and could not answer the question. But after I had parted from

1 Plat. Hipp. Maj. 285 E. 2 Plat. Hipp. _ Maj. 286 A-B.

40 HIPPIAS MAJOR. Crap. XIII.

him, I became mortified and angry with myself; and I vowed
that the next time I met any wise man, like you, I would put
the question to him, and learn how to answer it; so that I might
be able to renew the conversation with my friend. Your coming
here is most opportune. I entreat you to answer and explain to
me clearly what the Beautiful is ; in order that I may not again
incur the like mortification. You can easily answer: it is a small
matter for you, with your numerous attainments.

Oh—yes—a small matter (replies Hippias); the question is easy

Hip ias to answer. I could teach you to answer many ques-
thinksthe tions harder than that ; so that no man shall be able
question . .

easy to to convict you in dialogue.!

anawer. Sokrates then proceeds to interrogate Hippias, in

the name of the absentee, starting one difficulty after another as
if suggested by this unknown prompter, and pretending to be
himself under awe of so impracticable a disputant.

All persons are just, through Justice—wise, through Wisdom
Suatice —good, through Goodness or the Good—beautiful,
Wisdom, through Beauty or the Beautiful. Now Justice,
Beauty Wisdom, Goodness,: Beauty or the Beautiful, must
besome- each be something. Tell me what the Beautiful
is Beauty, is?

y;
or the al? Hippias does not conceive the question. Does the
man want to know what is a beautiful thing? Sokr.
—No; he wants to know what is The Beautsful. Htp.—I do not
see the difference. I answer that a beautiful maiden is a beauti-
ful thing. No one can deny that.?

Sokr.—My disputatious friend will not accept your answer.
pp He wants you to tell him, What is the Self-Beautiful?
does not —that Something through which all beautiful things
the ques-. become beautiful. Am I to tell him, it is because a
tion. He beautiful maiden isa beautiful thing? He will say
indicating —Is not a beautiful mare a beautiful thing also? and
fant νόον a beautiful lyre as well? Htp.—Yes ; both of them
ful object. are so. Sokr.—Ay, and a beautiful pot, my friend
will add, well moulded and rounded by a skilful potter, is a

_beautiful thing too. Hip.—How, Sokrates? Who can your

1 Plat. Hipp. Maj. 286 C-D. 2 Plat. Hipp. Maj. 287 A.

Cap. XIII. WHAT IS THE BEAUTIFUL ? 4]

disputatious friend be? Some ill-taught man, surely ; since he
introduces such trivial names into a dignified debate. Sokr.—
Yes ; that is his character: not polite, but vulgar, anxious for
nothing else but the truth. Htp.—A pot, if it be beautifully
made, must certainly be called beautiful; yet still, all such
objects are unworthy to be counted as beatitiful, if compared
with a maiden, a mare, or a lyre. ἌΝ

Sokr.—I understand. You follow the analogy snbyested by
Herakleitus in his dictum—That the most~beautiful oc. _ques-
ape is ugly, if compared with the human race. So tionin by
you say, the most beautiful pot is ugly, when com- Other
pared with the race of maidens. Htp.—Yes. That things also
is my meaning. Sokr.—Then my friend will ask you ful, buteach
in return, whether the race of maidens is not as much peautiful
inferior to the race of Gods, as the pot to the maiden? omy by ᾿
whether the most beautiful maiden will not appear or under
ugly, when compared to a Goddess? whether the Some rart
wisest of men will not appear an ape, when compared cumstances:
to the Gods, either in beauty or in wisdom.’ Htp.— times bean.
No one can dispute it. Sokr.—My friend will smile ‘times not
and say—You forget what was the question put. 1 beautiful.
asked you, What is the Beautiful {the Self-Beautiful: and your
answer gives me, as the Self-Beautiful, something which you
yourself acknowledge to be no more beautiful than ugly? If I
had asked you, from the first, what it was that was both beauti-
ful and ugly, your answer would have been pertinent to the
question. Can you still think that the Self-Beautiful,—that
Something, by the presence of which all other things become
beautiful,—is a maiden, or ἃ mare, or a lyre?

Hip.—I have another answer to which your friend can take no
exception. That, by the presence of which all things second an-
become beautiful, is Gold. What was before uply, vine Gade
will (we all know), when ornamented with gold, ap- is {hat by |
pear beautiful. Sokr.—You little know what sort of of which all
man my friend is. He will laugh at your answer, things be
and ask you—Do you think, then, that Pheidias did ful. Scrutiny

not know his profession as a sculptor? How came the fear.

1 Plat. Hipp. Maj. 289.

420 HIPPIAS MAJOR. Crap. XIII.

Complaint he not to make the statue of Athéné all gold, instead
aboot riper of making (as he has done) the face, hands, and feet
analogies §— of ivory, and the pupils of the eyes of a particular
stone? Is not ivory also beautiful, and particular kinds of stone?
Hip.—Yes, each is beautiful, where it is becoming. Sokr.—And
ugly, where it is not becoming. Htp.—Doubtless. I admit that
what is becoming or suitable, makes that to which it is applied
appear beautiful: that which is not becoming or suitable, makes
it appear ugly. Sokr.—My friend will next ask you, when you
are boiling the beautiful pot of which we spoke just now, full of
beautiful soup, what sort of ladle will be suitable and becoming—
one made of gold, or of fig-tree wood? Will not the golden ladle
spoil the soup, and the wocden ladle turn it out good? Is not
the wooden ladle, therefore, better than the golden? Htp.—By
Héraklés, Sokrates! what a coarse and stupid fellow your friend
is! I cannot continue to converse with a man who talks of such
matters. Sokr.—I am not surprised that you, with your fine
attire and lofty reputation, are offended with these low allusions.
But I have nothing to spoil by intercourse with this man ; and I
entreat you to persevere, as a favour to me. He will ask you
whether a wooden soup-ladle is not more beautiful than a ladle
of gold,—since it is more suitable and becoming? So that
though you said—The Self-Beautiful is Gold—you are now ob-
liged to acknowledge that gold is not more beautiful than fig-tree
wood ?

Hip.—I acknowledge that it isso. But I have another answer
ready which will silence your friend. I presume you wish me
Thirdan. indicate as The Beautiful, something which will
awer of Ἢ Hip- never appear ugly to any one, at any time, or at any

las—ques- place.? Sokr.—That is exactly what I desire. Hip.—

it—proof, Well, I affirm, then, that to every man, always, and
t fails of everywhere, the following is most beautiful. A man
application. being healthy, rich, honoured by the Greeks, having
come to old age and buried his own parents well, to

be himself buried by his own sons well and magnificently. Sokr.
—Your answer sounds imposing ; but my friend will laugh it to
scorn, and will remind me again, that his question pointed to the

1 Plat. Hipp. Maj. 290, £ Plato, Hipp. Maj. 291 C-D.

Cuap. XIIT. THE SUITABLE OR BECOMING. 43

Beautiful téself1—something which, being present as attribute in
any subject, will make that subject (whether stone, wood, man,
God, action, study, &c.) beautiful. Now that which you have
asserted to be beautiful to every one everywhere, was not beauti-
ful to Achilles, who accepted by preference the lot of dying before
his father—nor is it so to the heroes, orjto the sons of Gods, who
do not survive or bury their fathers. To some, therefore, what
you specify is beautiful—to others it is not beautiful but ugly :
that is, it is both beautiful and ugly, like the maiden, the lyre,
the pot, on which we have already remarked. Hip.—I did not
speak about the Gods or Heroes. Your friend is intolerable, for
touching on such profanities.? Soler.—However, you cannot deny
that what you have indicated is beautiful only for the sons of
men, and not for the sons of Gods. My friend will thus make
good his reproach against your answer. He will tell me, that all
the answers, which we have as yet given, are too absurd. And
he may perhaps at the same time himself suggest another, as he
sometimes does in pity for my embarrassment.

Sokrates then mentions, as coming from hints of the absent
friend, three or four different explanations of the Self- arther an.
Beautiful : each of which, when first introduced, he Svat, ie
approves, and Hippias approves also: but each of Sokrates
which he proceeds successively to test and condemn. 1 The Suit-
It is to be remarked that all of them are general ex- 8018. or Be-
planations: not consisting in conspicuous particular Object ons
instances, like those which had come from Hippias. it is re
His explanations are the following :— jected.

1. The suitable or becoming (which had before been glanced
at). Itis the suitable or becoming which constitutes the Beauti-
ful.*

To this Sokrates objects: The suitable, or becoming, is what
causes objects to appear beautiful—not what causes them to be
really beautiful. Now the latter is that which we are seeking.
The two conditions do not always go together. Those objects,
institutions, and pursuits which are really beautiful (fine, honour-
able) very often do not appear so, either to individuals or to

1 Plato, Hipp. Maj. 292 D 2 Plato, Hipp. Maj. 293 B.
May. 3 Plato, Hipp. Maj. 208 E.

44 ~ HIPPIAS MAJOR. Caap. XIII.

cities collectively ; so that there is perpetual dispute and fighting
on the subject. The suitable or becoming, therefore, as it is
certainly what makes objects appear beautiful, so it cannot be
what makes them really beautiful.’

2. The useful or profitable.—We call objects beautiful, looking
to the purpose which they are calculated or intended 9 mousoful
to serve: the human body, with a view to running, or profitable
wrestling, and other exercises—a horse, an ox, a cock, το] σοῦ not
looking to the service required from them—imple- »°l4
ments, vehicles on land and ships at sea, instruments for music
and other arts all upon the same principle, looking to the end
which they accomplish or help to accomplish. Laws and pursuits
are characterised in the same way. In each of these, we give the
name Beautiful to the useful, in so far as it is useful, when it is
useful, and for the purpose to which it is useful. To that which

‘is useless or hurtful, in the same manner, we give the name
Ugly.”

Now that which is capable of accomplishing each end, is useful
for such end: that which is incapable, is useless. It is therefore
capacity, or power, which is beautiful; incapacity, or impotence,
is ugly.®

Most certainly (replies Hippias): this is especially true in our
cities and communities, wherein political power is the finest
thing possible, political impotence, the meanest.

Yet, on closer inspection (continues Sokrates), such a theory
will not hold. Power is employed by all men, though un-
willingly, for bad purposes: and each man, through such employ-
ment of his power, does much more harm than good, beginning
with his childhood. Now power, which is useful for the doing
of evil, can never be called beautiful.‘

You cannot therefore say that Power, taken absolutely, is
beautiful. You must add the qualification—Power used for the
production of some good, is beautiful: This, then, would be the
profitable—the cause or generator of good.® But the cause is
different from its effect :—the generator or father is different

1 Plato, Hipp. Maj. 204 B-E. ὅπερ δυνατόν, εἰς τοῦτο καὶ χρήσιμον" τὸ
2 Plat. Hipp. Maj. 295 C-D. δὲ ἀδύνατον ἄχρηστον; - . . - Δύναμις

3 Plat. Hipp. Maj. 205 E. Οὐκοῦν .
τὸ δυνατὸν ἕκαστον ἀπεργάζεσθαι, ες ὅ Plat. Hipp. Maj. 297 B.

Cuap. XIII. THE USEFUL—THE PLEASURABLE. 45.

from the generated or son. The beautiful would, upon this.
view, be the cause of the good. But then the beautiful would be.
different from the good, and the good different from the beauti-.
ful? Who can admit this? It is obviously wrong: it is the.
most ridiculous theory which we have yet hit upon.!

3. The Beautiful is a particular variety of the agreeable or-
pleasurable: that which characterises those things
which cause pleasure to us through sight and hearing.
Thus the men, the ornaments, the works of painting
or sculpture, upon which we look with admiration,”
are called beautiful: also songs, music, poetry, fable, through i
discourse, in like manner; nay even laws, customs, eye and the
pursuits, which we consider beautiful, might be “™
brought under the same head.®

The objector, however, must now be dealt with. He will ask
us—Upon what ground do you make so marked a
distinction between the pleasures of sight and hearing, to this last
and other pleasures? Do you deny that these others perty is Pro-
(those of taste, smell, eating, drinking, sex) are really ‘here com:
pleasures? No, surely (we shall reply); we admit sight and
them to be pleasures,—but no one will tolerate us in near:
calling them beautiful: especially the pleasures of the pean
sex, which as pleasures are the ‘greatest of all, but sures of
which are ugly and disgraceful to behold. He will these two
answer—I understand you: you are ashamed to call oxenlogs
these pleasures beautiful, because they do not seem so of being
to the multitude: but I did not ask you, what seems beautiful’
beautiful to the multitude—I asked you, what 2 beautiful.‘
You mean to affirm, that all pleasures which do not belong to
sight and hearing, are not beautiful : Do you mean, all which do

3. The Beau-.

Objections

“1 Plat. Hipp. Maj. 207 D-E. ei the vision of a countless throng of
οἷόν τ᾽ ἐστίν, ἐκείνων εἶναι (κινδυνεύει) admirers. So with the plcasing sounds,
γελοιότερος τῶν πρώτων. ἂς." ‘The Emotions and the Will,”

2 Hipp. . 208 A-B. ch. xiv. (The Xsthetic Emotions),

3 Plat. Hi . 298 ἢ.

. sect. 2, Ρ. 226, ϑτὰ οα.
rves :—‘* The eye 4 Plato, Hipp. Maj. 298 E, 299 A.
t avenues to Μανθάνω, av ἴσως dain, καὶ ἐγώ, ὅτι
etic class οὗ in- πάλαι αἰσχύνεσθε ταύτας τὰς ἡδονὰς
fluences; the other senses are more φάναι καλὰς εἶναι, ὅτι οὐ δοκεῖ τοῖς

Professor o
and the ear are the

or less in the monopolist interest.

The blue sky, the green woods, and all 6

the beauties of the landscape, can fill

ἀνθρώποις" GAA’ ἐγὼ οὐ τοῦτο ἠρώτων,
οκεὶ τοῖς πολλοῖς καλὸν
εἶναι, ἀλλ᾽ ὅ, τι ἔστιν.

46 HIPPIAS MAJOR. Cnap. XIIL

not belong to both? ΟΣ 411 which do not belong to one or the
other? We shall reply—To either one of the two—or to both
the two. Well! but, why (he will ask) do you single out these
pleasures of sight and hearing, as beautiful exclusively? What
is there peculiar in them, which gives them a title to such
distinction? All pleasures are alike, so far forth as pleasures,
differing only in the more or less. Next, the pleasures of sight
cannot be considered as beautiful by reason of their coming
through sight—for that reason would not apply to the pleasures
of hearing: nor again can the pleasures of hearing be considered
as beautiful by reason of their coming through hearing... We
must find something possessed as well by sight as by hearing,
common to both, and peculiar to them,—which confers beauty
upon the pleasures of both and of each. Any attribute of one,
which does not also belong to the other, will not be sufficient
for our purpose. Beauty must depend upon some essential
characteristic which both have in common.? We must therefore
look out for some such characteristic, which belongs to both
as well as to each separately.

Now there is one characteristic which may perhaps serve.

Answer— ‘The pleasures of sight and hearing, both and each, are
dhere is, distinguished from other pleasures by being the most

to each and innocuous and the best.‘ It is for this reason that we
common, call them beautiful. The Beautiful, then, is profit-
pata made able pleasure—or pleasure producing good—for the
innocuous profitable is, that which produces good.®

opie leae Nevertheless the objector will not be satisfied even
Upon t with this. He will tell us—You declare the Beauti-

this
ground they ful to be Pleasure producing good. But we before

1 Plato, Hi ODE. or vice verst ; some again whi
3 οὐ δ δι, Bip true of the two and true also on each
wean Stkrates one—such as just, wise, handsome, &.
and separate ‘szgument between Sokrates p. 301-303 B.
polated; Hippias affirms that he does 3 Plat. Hipp. Maj. 502 C. τῇ οὐσίᾳ
not see how any cate be true τῇ ἐπ᾿ ἀμφότερα ἑπομένῃ Suny, εἴπερ
of both which is not true of either ἀμφότερά ἐστι καλά, δεῖν αὐτὰ

separately. Sokrates points out that καλὰ εἶναι, τῇ δὲ κατὰ τὰ ἕτερα ἀπολει-
two men are Both, even in number, πομένῃ μή . καὶ ἔτι νῦν οἵο
᾿ Plat. Hipp. Maj. 808 Β. ὅτι dow.

You cannot say of the two that they darara: αὗται τῶν » bows εἶσι καὶ βέλ-
are one, nor can you say of either that τισται, καὶ eer καὶ i ἑκατέρα.
δ ἐς toe there are two classes of Sy vb ne Pp.

cates ; which are true of τὸ καλὸν εἶναι, Ν το ὠφέλει-
Pes but aot true of the two together, δὴ τὸ

CaaP. XIII. DIFFERENCE OF THE EXPLANATIONS.

agreed, that the producing ‘agent or cause is different
from what is produced or the effect. Accordingly,
the Beautiful is different from the good : or, in other
words, the Beautiful is not good, nor is the Good
beautiful—if each of them is a different thing.’ Now
these propositions we have already pronounced to be
_ inadmissible, so that your present explanation will
not stand better than the preceding.

Thus finish the three distinct explanations of Τὸ
καλὸν, which Plato in this dialogue causes to be first
suggested by Sokrates, successively accepted by Hip-
pias, and successively refuted by Sokrates. In com-
paring them with the three explanations which he
puts into the mouth of Hippias, we note this distinc-
tion : That the explanations proposed by Hippias are
conspicuous particular exemplifications of the Beauti-
ful, substituted in place of the general concept: as we
remarked, in the Dialogue Euthyphron, that the
explanations of the Holy given by Euthyphron in
reply to Sokrates, were of the same exemplifying
character. On the contrary, those suggested by
Sokrates keep in the region of abstractions, and seek

to discover some more general concept, of which the κα

Beautiful is only a derivative or a modification, so as

are called
beautiful.

This will
not hold—
The Profit-
able is the
cause of
Good, and
is therefore
different
from Good
—To say
that the
Beautiful is
the Profit-
able, is to ~
say that it
is different

conspicuous
examples :

to render a definition of it practicable. To illustrate this
difference by the language of Dr. Whewell respecting many of
the classifications in Natural History, we may say—That ac-

The
by

Plato is—A is somethin.
from B, therefore A is not
not A. In other words, A cannot be
redicated of Β nor B of A. Antis-
enes said in like manner—A»@pwaos
and ᾿Αγαθὸς are different from each
other, therefore you cannot say ᾿Ανθρω-

eneral principle here laid down

different
and B is

ese last words deserve attention, πός ἐστιν ἀγαθός. You can only say
because they coincide with the ᾿Ανθρωπός ἐστιν “Ανθρωπος ---᾿Αγαθός
ἴο enes, which has ἐστιν ἀγαθός.
caused so many hard words to be I have touched farther upon this
applied to him tas well as to Stilpon) point in my chapter upon An enes
by czitics, from Kolétes downwards. and the other Viri Sokratici. -

48 HIPPIAS MAJOR. Cuap. XIII.

cording to the views here represented by Hippias, the group of
objects called beautiful is given by Type, not by Definition :}
while Sokrates proceeds like one convinced that some common
characteristic attribute may be found, on which to rest a Defini-
tion. To search for Definitions of general words, was (as Ari-
stotle remarks) a novelty, and a valuable novelty, introduced by
Sokrates. His contemporaries, the Sophists among them, were
not accustomed to it: and here the Sophist Hippias (according
to Plato’s frequent manner) is derided as talking nonsense,?

because, when asked for an explanation of The Self-Beautiful, he
answers by citing special instances of beautiful objects. But we
must remember, first, that Sokrates, who is introduced as trying
several general explanations of the Self-Beautiful, does not find
one which will stand : next, that even if one such could be found,
particular instances can never be dispensed with, in the way of
illustration ; lastly, that there are many general terms (the Beau-
tiful being one of them) of which no definitions can be provided,
and which can only be imperfectly explained, by enumerating a
variety of objects to which the term in question is applied. Plato

many cases objects bear a general
resemblance to vach other, whid leads
to their being familiarly classed to-

ether under a common name, while it

1See Dr. Whewell’s ‘ {Π δύο of
the Inductive Sciences,’ 864. ;
and Mr. John _Stuart Mill's τα ‘ System

of
Teal i iMustrate this subject farther .

phen I come to the dialogue called

73 Stallbaum, in his notes, bursts into

exclamations of wonder at the in-

credible stupidity of Hippias—‘‘ En
hominis stuporem prorsas admira-
bilem,” p. 289 E.

3 Mr. Pyohn Stuart Mil’ observes
his System ‘of Logic, i 1, δ: ‘One
of the chief sources of lax ‘habits of
thought is the custom of using con-
notative terms without a inctly
ascertained connotation, and with no

ot ὃν ΕΣ but
conscious, what those
erect objects have in common. In

vidual there is

is not immediately apparent what are
the cular attributes upon rhe.
session of which in common by t

all their general resemblance depends.
In this manner names creep on from
subject to subject until all traces of a
common meaning sometimes disappear,
and the word comes to denote a num-

in ber of things not only independentl

of any common attribute, but whic

have actually no attribute in common,
or none but what is shared by other
t to which the name is capri-

ciously refused. put would be w if
egeneracy 0 place
only in the hands of the untaught

; but some of the most remark-
able instances are to be found in terms
of art, and among technically educated

ns, such as lawyers.
6.9, 8, law-term with the
of nich all are familiar: but
no lawyer who would undertake
to tell what α felony ts, ot oe pences ‘ee
by enumerating
called. Criginally the Nord Lfaony ony had
a meaning ; it denoted all offences, the

sound’

Cuap. XIII. THE XENOPHONTIC SOKRATES. 49

thought himself entitled to objectivise every general term, or to as-
sume a substantive Ens, called a Form or Idea, corresponding to it.
This was a logical mistake quite as serious as any which we
know to have been committed by Hippias or any other Sophist.
The assumption that wherever there is a general term, there
must also be a generic attribute corresponding to it—is one
which Aristotle takes much pains to negative: he recognises
terms of transitional analogy, as well as terms equivocal: while
he also especially numbers the Beautiful among equivocal terms.!
We read in the Xenophontic Memorabilia a dialogue between
Sokrates and Aristippus, on this same subject—What , io, be.
is the Beautiful, which affords a sort of contrast be- tween the
tween the Dialogues of Search and those of Exposi- tions here
tion. In the Hippias Major, we have the problem ascribed to
approached on several different sides, various sugges- and those
tions being proposed, and each successively disallowed, fhe Xeno-
on reasons shown, as failures: while in the Kenophon- phontic
tic dialogue, Sokrates declares an affirmative doctrine, in the Me-
and stands to it—but no pains are taken to bring out MO™Ula-
the objections against it and rebut them. The doctrine is, that
the Beautiful is coincident with the Good, and that both of them
are resolvable into the Useful : thus all beautiful objects, unlike
as they may be to the eye or touch, bear that name because they
have in common the attribute of conducing to one and the same
purpose—the security, advantage, or gratification, of man, in
some form or other. This is one of the three explanations
broached by the Platonic Sokrates, and afterwards refuted by
him, in the Hippias : while his declaration (which Hippias puts
aside as unseemly)—that a pot and a wooden soup-ladle con-
veniently made are beautiful—is perfectly in harmony with that
of the Xenophontic Sokrates, that a basket for carrying dung is
beautiful, if it performs its work well. We must moreover

of which but mab forfeiture ot 2 Aristot. Topic. i. 106, λ a. 21.

or goods, but subsequen Ta πολλαχῶς μενα--τὰ πλεοναχῶς

of Parliament have declared various λεγόμενα are porpetaally τ oted and

offences to be felonies without enjoin distinguished by Aristotle.

that ty, and have taken away tha 2 Xen. Mem. lii. 6, 2, 7; iv. 6, 8.
from others which continue Plato, Hipp. Maj. 288 D, 290 Ὦ.

"never eles a to be called felonies, inso- I am obliged to the words

the acts so called have now τὸ Καλόν by the Beautiful or beauty,

no prowerty whatever in common save to avoid a firesome phrasis. But

unlawful and punishable.” in reality th words include

2---4

HIPPIAS MAJOR.

Cap. XIII.

remark, that the objections whereby the Platonic Sokrates, after
proposing the doctrine and saying much in its favour, finds him-
self compelled at last to disallow it—these objections are not pro-
duced and refuted, but passed over without notice, in the Xeno-
phontic dialogue, wherein Sokrates affirms it decidedly! The

more besides: they mean also the Ane,
the honourable or that which is worthy
honour, the exalted, &c. If we have
culty in finding any common pro-
perty connoted by the lish word,
difficulty in the case of the Greek
word is still greater.

1 In regard to the question, Wherein
consists To Καλόν and objections
against the theory of the Xenophontic
Sokrates, it is worth while to compare
the views of modern siilosophers.

d Stewart says (on the Beautiful,
phical Essays,’ Ὁ. 214 seq.),
ng been a favourite problem
with philosophers to ascertain the com-
mon quality or
a to the denomination of Beau-
tiful t the success of their specu-
lations has been so inconsiderable, that
little can be inferred from them except
the im bility of the problem
which they have been directed. The
speculations which have given occasion
to these remarks have evidently origi-
nated in a prejudice which has
scended to modern times from the

to expose the un-
futility. Socrates

whose lain good sense on
this as'on Ὁ er occasions. to ve

ualities which entitle in

has misconceived the opinion of So-
krates, who maintains the very doctrine
here disallowed by Stewart, vis. That
there is an essential idea common to
all beautiful objecta, the fact of
conducive to human security, comf

or enjoyment. This is unquestionabl
an important common propert: thougi

venient boiling- or a soup-ladle
treo wood, as the Platonic

-made of
Sokrates 8 in the Hippias (288 Ὁ,
290 D). The Beautiful and the Use-

fal sometimes coincide ; more of or
at least very often they do not. p-
ab raeeg riences
e mention of su ο

jects as the pot and the ladle; and this

ap ly intended by Plato as a
defective point in his character, denot-
ing silly affectation and conceit, like

Pat
:
ἐς

derfal ἃ the metaphysical the Useful. But his remarks are
subtleties which misled his successors, valuable in another t of view, as
was evidently apprised fully of the they insist most forcibly on the essen-
justice of the f remarks, if any tia} relativity of the Beautiful
reliance can be p on the account and the
given by Xenophon of his conversation The doctrine of d Stewart fs
the Boautifut’ ae the and ( Sistem of Lowi i δ: and Pro-
Θ " &. ‘ ic,’ iv. Η
πτ τ lees a Me ts a
on e Xenophon e sa a
Memorab. fii. 8). Bat unf ly » on the Asthetic

he does not translate the whole of it.
¥f he had he would have seen that he

Cuap. XIII. CONCLUDING THRUST. δῚ

affirming Sokrates, and the objecting Sokrates, are not on the
stage aft once.

The concluding observations of this dialogue, interchanged be-
tween Hippias and Sokrates, are interesting as bringing out the
antithesis between rhetoric and dialectic—between the concrete
and exemplifying, as contrasted with the abstract and analytical.
Immediately after Sokrates has brought his own third suggestion
to an inextricable embarrassment, Hippias remarks—

“ Well, Sokrates, what do you think now of all these reason-
ings of yours? They are what I declared them to be Concluding
just now,—scrapings and parings of discourse, divided thrust ex-
into minute fragments. But the really beautiful and tween ρα
precious acquirement is, to be able to set out well and pias and
finely a regular discourse before the Dikastery or the
public assembly, to persuade your auditors, and to depart carry-
ing with you not the least but the greatest of all prizes—safety
for yourself, your property, and your friends. These are the
real objects to strive for. Leave off your petty cavils, that you
may not look like an extreme simpleton, handling silly trifles as
you do at present.” }

“My dear Hippias,” (replies Sokrates) “ you are a happy man,
since you know what pursuits a man ought to follow, and have
yourself followed them, as you say, with good success. But I,
az it seems, am under the grasp of an unaccountable fortune: for _
I am always fluctuating and puzzling myself, and when I lay my
puzzle before you wise men, I am requited by you with hard
words. I am told just what you have now been telling me, that
I busy myself about matters silly, petty, and worthless. When
on the contrary, overborne by your authority, I declare as you
do, that it is the finest thing possible to be able to set out well
and beautifully a regular discourse before the public assembly,
and bring it to successful conclusion—then there are other men
at hand who heap upon me bitter reproaches: especially that one
man, my nearest kinsman and inmate, who never omits to convict
me. When on my return home he hears me repeat what you
have told me, he asks, if I am not ashamed of my impudence in
talking about beautiful (honourable) pursuits, when I am 80

1 Plat. Hipp. Maj. 304 A.

52 HIPPIAS MAJOR. Cup. ΧΙ.

manifestly convicted upon this subject, of not even knowing
what the Beautiful (Honourable) is. How can you (he says),
being ignorant what the Beautiful is, know who has set out a
discourse beautifully and who has not—who has performed a
beautiful exploit and who has not? Since you are in a condition
so disgraceful, can you think life better for you than death ?
Such then is my fate—to hear disparagement and reproaches
from you on the one side, and from him on the other. Necessity
however perhaps requires that I should endure all these dis-
comforts : for it will be nothing strange if I profit by them.
Indeed I think that I have already profited both by your
society, Hippias, and by his: for I now think that I know what
the proverb means—Beautiful (Honourable) things are difficult.”!

Here is a suitable termination for one of the Dialogues of
Rhetoric earch: “My mind has been embarrassed by con-
against tradictions as yet unreconciled, but this is a stage
Dialectic. indispensable to future improvement”. We have
moreover an interesting passage of arms between Rhetoric and
Dialectic : two contemporaneous and contending agencies, among
the stirring minds of Athens, in the time of Plato and Isokrates.
The Rhetor accuses the Dialectician of departing from the condi-
tions of reality—of breaking up the integrity of those concretes,
which occur in nature each as continuous and indivisible wholes.
Each of the analogous particular cases forms a continuum or
concrete by itself, which may be compared with the others, but
cannot be taken to pieces, and studied in separate fragments.*
The Dialectician on his side treats the Abstract (τὸ καλὸν) as the
real Integer, and the highest abstraction as the first of all
integers, containing in itself and capable of evolving all the
. subordinate integers: the various accompaniments, which go
along with each Abstract to make up a concrete, he disregards as
shadowy and transient disguises.

Hippias accuses Sokrates of never taking into his view Wholes,

04 DE καὶ διανεκἣ “5; ματα τῆς οὐσίας
Piet ἜΡΡ: ᾿Αλλὰ πεφυκότα. 801 E.
γὰρ δὴ σύ, ὦ ὄκρατες, τὰ τὰ μὲν ὅλα τῶν ihe \ words διανεκὴ σώματα τῆς οὐσίας
μάτων οὗ σκοπεῖς, οὐδ᾽ ἐκεῖνοι, πεφυκότα, correspond as nearly as can
ots σὺ εἴωθας διαλέγεσθαι, κρούετε δὲ be to the logical term opposed
ἀπολαμβάνοντες τὸ καλὸν καὶ ἕκαστον to Abstract. Nature f only
τῶν ὄντων ἐν τοῖς λόγοις κατατέμνοντες " Concreta, not Abstracta.

διὰ ταῦτα οὕτω μεγάλα ὑμᾶς λανθάνει

Cuap. XIII. AGGREGATES. 53

and of confining his attention to separate parts and | who
fragments, obtained by logical analysis and subdivi- dealt with
sion. Aristophanes, when he attacks the Dialectic of teal life,
Sokrates, takes the same ground, employing numerous with the
comic metaphors to illustrate the small and impal- ρου τ
pable fragments handled, and the subtle transpositions tical phi-
which they underwent in the reasoning. Isokrates
again deprecates the over-subtlety of dialectic debate, contrasting
it with discussions (in his opinion) more useful ; wherein entire
situations, each with its full clothing and assemblage of circum-
stances, were reviewed and estimated. All these are protests,
by persons accustomed to deal with real life, and to talk to
auditors both numerous and commonplace, against that conscious
analysis and close attention to general and abstract terms, which
Sokrates first insisted on and transmitted to his disciples. On
the other side, we have the emphatic declaration made by the
Platonic Sokrates (and made still earlier by the Xenophontic ? or
historical Sokrates)—That a man was not fit to talk about beau-
tiful things in the concrete—that he had no right to affirm or
deny that attribute, with respect to any given subject—that he
was even fit to live unless he could explain what was meant by
The Beautiful, or Beauty in the abstract. Here are two distinct
and conflicting intellectual habits, the antithesis between which,
indicated in this dialogue, is described at large and forcibly in
the Theetétus.? —

When Hippias accuses Sokrates of neglecting to notice Wholes
or Aggregates, this is true in the sense of Concrete Concrete
Wholes—the phenomenal sequences and co-existences, A&gresates
perceived by sense or imagined. But the Universal oF logical
(as Aristotle says)* is one kind of Whole: a Logical Distinct ap-

1 Aristophan. Nubes, 130. λόγων this Hippias Major. Also Isokrates,
ἀκριβῶν σχινδαλάμους---παιτάλη. Nub. Contra histas, 5. 24-25, where he
261, Ayes 430. λεπτοτάτων λήρων contrasts the useless λογίδια, debated
iepev, Nub. 359. γνώμαις λεπταῖς, by the contentious dialecticians (So-
Nub. 1404. σκαριφισμοῖσι λήρων, Ran. krates and Plato being probably in-
1497. σμιλεύματα---ἰα. 819. krates, cluded in this designa: ion), with his
Πρὸς Νικοκλέα, 8. 69, antithesis of own λόγοι modcrixoi. Com

the λόγοι πολιτικοὶ and λόγοι ἐριστι- Isokrates, Or. xv. De Permutatione, s.
κοί--μάλιστα μὲν καὶ ἀπὸ τῶν καιρῶν 211-213-285-287.

θεωρεῖν συμβονλεύοντας, εἰ δὲ μὴ, 2 Xen. Mem. i. 1, 16.

καθ᾿ ὅλων τῶν πραγμάτων 8 Plato, Thesetét. pp. 173-174-175.
Aéyovras—which is almost exactly the 4 Aristot. Physic. i. 1. τὸ γὰρ ὅλον
phrase ascribed to Hippias by Platoin κατὰ τὴν αἴσθησιν γνωριμώτερον, τὸ

54 HIPPIAS MAJOR. CuHap. XIIE

titudes re- Whole, having logical parts. In the minds of So-
Tristotle. -krates and Plato, the Logical Whole separable into
jor the Dia its logical parts and into them only, were prepon-

derant.
One other point deserves peculiar notice, in the dialogue under
our review. The problem started is, What is the

Antithesis
of Absolute Beautiful—the Self-Beautiful, or Beauty per se: and
tive, here it is assumed that this must be Something, that from
brow a the accession of which, each particular beautiful thing
fo, in’ becomes beautiful. But Sokrates presently comes to
tho Idee of make a distinction between that which is really
Υ͂.

beautiful and that which appears to be beautiful.
Some things (he says) appear beautiful, but are not so in reality :
‘some are beautiful, but do not appear so. The problem, as he
states it, is, to find, not what that is which makes objects appear
beautiful, but what it is that makes them really beautiful. This
distinction, as we find it in the language of Hippias, is one of
degree only :? that 18 beautiful which appears so to every one and
at all times. But in the language of Sokrates, the distinction is
radical: to be beautiful is one thing, to appear beautiful is ano-
ther ; whatever makes a thing appear beautiful without being
80 in reality, is a mere engine of deceit, and not what Sokrates is
enquiring for.* The Self-Beautiful or real Beauty is so, whether
any one perceives it to be beautiful or not: it is an Absolute,
which exists per se, having no relation to any sentient or per-
cipient subject. At any rate, such is the manner in which Plato

supposed to be in the object, which
should of itself be beautiful, without
relation to any mind which perceives
it. For Beauty, like other names of
sensible ideas, properly denotes the
Baie of some mind. . Our
quiry is is pony, about the qualities
beautiful to men, or ate
the foondation of their sense < ‘of beau

δὲ καθόλον ὅλον τὶ ἐστι" πολλὰ
γὰρ περιλαμβάνει ὡς μέρη
καθόλον. Compare Simplikins.! Sthol
Brandis ad loc. p. 324, a. 10-26.

1 Plato, Hipp. Maj. 286 E. αὐτὸ rd
καλὸν ὅ, τι ἔστιν. Also 287 D, 289 Ὁ.

3 Plato, Hipp. Maj. 291 D, 292 E.

8 Plato, Hipp. Maj. 294 A-B, 209 A.

4Dr. Hutcheson, in his inquiry into
the Original of our Ideas of Beauty and
Virtue, observes (sect. i. and ii. p. 14-

16) :—
‘Beauty is either original or com-
parative, ὅν if any like the terms
tter, sbsolute or relative; only let
it be observed, that by absolute or

original, is not understood any quality sect.

for (as above hinted) Beau
_Telation to th

how gen
us are
objects are agreeable to the sense of

The same is repeated, sect. iv. 40;
VL. p. 72. P ν

CuapP. XTIL HIPPIAS MINOR. 55

conceives it, when he starts here 88 ἃ problem to enquire, What
it is.

Herein we note one of the material points of disagreement
between Plato and his master: for Sokrates (in the Xenophontic
Memorabilia) affirms distinctly that Beauty is altogether relative
to human wants and appreciations. The Real and Absolute, on
the one hand, wherein alone resides truth and beauty—as against
the phenomenal and relative, on the other hand, the world of
illusion and meanness—this is an antithesis which we shall find
often reproduced in Plato. I shall take it up more at large, when
I come to discuss his argument against Protagoras in the Thex-
tétus.

f now come to the Lesser Hippias: in which (as we have al-
ready seen in the Greater) that Sophist is described pipsias
by epithets, affirming varied and extensive accom- Minor--Cha-
plishments, as master of arithmetic, geometry, astro- situation
nomy, poetry (especially that of Homer), legendary ®"PPosed.
lore, music, metrical and rhythmical diversities, &c. His memory
was prodigious, and he had even invented for himself a technical
scheme for assisting memory. He had composed poems, epic,
lyric, and tragic, as well as many works in prose: he was, besides,
a splendid lecturer on ethical and political subjects, and professed
to answer any question which might be asked. Furthermore, he
was skilful in many kinds of manual dexterity: having woven
his own garments, plaited his own girdle, made his own shoes,
engraved his own seal-ring, and fabricated for himseif a curry-
comb and oil-flask.!_ Lastly, he is described as wearing fine and
showy apparel. What he is made to say is rather in harmony
with this last point of character, than with the preceding. He
talks with silliness and presumption, so as to invite and excuse
the derisory sting of Sokrates. There is a third interlocutor,
Eudikus: but he says very little, and other auditors are alluded
to generally, who say nothing.

1 Plato, Hipp. Minor, 868. posed by Plato. Schleiermacher doubts
i . about both, and rejects the Hippias

Ast rejecta both the dialogues called Minor (which he considers as perhaps
by the name of Hippias, as not com- worked up bya Platonic scholar from

HIPPIAS MINOR.

CuHap. XIII.

In the Hippias Minor, that Sophist appears as having just

Hippias has
just deliver-
ed a, lecture,
in which he
extols Ach-
filles as
better than
Odysseus—
the vera-
cious and
straight-
forward
hero, better
than the

mendacious
and crafty.

concluded a lecture upon Homer, in which he had ex-
tolled Achilles as better than Odysseus: Achilles being
depicted as veracious and straightforward, Odysseus
as mendacious and full of tricks. Sokrates, who had
been among the auditors, cross-examines Hippias upon
the subject of this affirmation. Ν

Homer (says Hippias) considers veracious men,
and mendacious men, to be not merely different,
but opposite: and I agree with him. Permit me
(Sokrates remarks) to ask some questions about the
meaning of this from you, since I cannot ask any

from Homer himself. You will answer both for yourself and

him.'

8 genuine sketch by Plato himself) but
not the same sentence upon
the Hipplas Major (Schleierm. Einleit.
vol. ii. pp. 203-206; vol. v. 899-403.
Ast, Platon’s Leben und Schriften, pp.

457-464).

Steltbaum defends both thedialogues been

as genuine works of Plato, and in my
judgment with good reason (Prolegg.
ad Hipp. Maj. vol. iv. pp. 145-150;
ad Hipp. Minor. pp. 227-235). Stein-
hart (Einleit. p. 99) and Socher (Ueber
Platon, p. 144 seq., 215 .) main
the same opinion on these ogues as
Stallbaum. It isto be remarked that
Schleiermacher states the reasons both
for and against the genuineness of the
dialogues; and I think that even in
his own statement the reasons 70. pre-
nderate. The reasons which both
hieiermacher and Ast produce as
proving the spuriousness, are in m
view quite insufficient to sustain the
conclusion. There is 80-

histry, an overdose of banter and Plato

istry
ΜΗ (they say very traly), in the
part assigned to Sokrates: there are

am
tain p bably be true.

baum just! remarks (p. 388) to have
affirmed by Sokrates in

the Xenophontic Memorabilia. Stall-
th the two dia-

logues (Socher, that the Hippias
only) were composed by to

refutation of the Hippias Minor
etaphys. A.

tive proof that the dialogue is Plato’s
work. Schilei Ast set
this evidence aside because Aristotle
does not name Plato as the author.
But if the dialogue had been com

by any one less celebrated than Plato,
Aristotle ve named theauthor.

also differences of view, as compared and

with Sokrates in other dialogues ;
various other affirmations (they tell

us) are not Platonic. I admit much .

of this, but I still do not accept their
conclusion. These critics cannot bear
to admit any Platonic work as genuine
unless it affords to them und for
superlative admiration and glorification
of the author. This Post

gether contest; and I think
ferences of view, as between So

in one dialogue and Sokrates in ano-.

cannot put any
ed upon forcibly

upon fo
farther

, so that you
estions to him”—

generalised in the P
epply to all written matter compared
converse (Phzedrus, p.

This ought to count, so far as it

krates 275 D).

ΒΑΡ. XIII ANALOGY OF SPECIAL ARTS. δὴ

Mendacious men (answers Hippias, to a string of questions,
somewhat prolix) are capable, intelligent, wise: they are not
incapable or ignorant. If a man be incapable of speaking
falsely, or ignorant, he is not mendacious. Now the capable
man is one who can make sure of doing what he wishes to do,
at the time and occasion when he does wish it, without let or
hindrance.}

‘You, Hippias (says Sokrates), are expert on matters of arith-
metic: you can make sure of answering truly any
question put to you on the subject. You are better on tested by
the subject than the ignorant man, who cannot make 30krstes.
sure of doing the same. But as you can make sure of cious man
answering truly, so likewise you can make sure of mendacious
answering falsely, whenever you choose to do so, Man areone
Now the ignorant man cannot make sure of answering same. The
falsely. He may, by reason of his ignorance, when who can
he wishes to answer falsely, answer truly without 2°5”e&
Intending it. You, therefore, the intelligent man and chooses, is
the good in arithmetic, are better than the ignorant yt wer

answer
and the bad for both purposes—for speaking falsely, falsely if he
and for speaking truly.” ic, the

What is true about arithmetic, is true in other man The
departments also. The only man who can speak ignorant
falsely whenever he chooses is the man who can speak make sure
truly whenever he chooses. Now, the mendacious of doing ΠΟ
man, as we agreed, is the man who can speak falsely οὐ theother
whenever he chooses. Accordingly, the mendacious Analogy of
man, and the veracious man, are the same. They ᾿ς is only
are not different, still less opposite :—nay, the two the arith-
epithets belong only to one and the same person. who can
The veracious man is not better than the mendacious {Py on
—seeing that he is one and the same.® a question
goes, as 8, s fragment of proof that the ἀληθῆ ἀποκρίνεσθαι; ἣ ὃ ἁμαθὴς εἰς

Minor is a genuine work of λογισμοὺς δύναιτ᾽ ἄν σοῦ μᾶλλον Ψψεύ-
, instead of which Schleiermacher δέεσθαι βονλομένου ; ἣ ὁ μὲν ἀμαθὴς wod-

treats it (p. 205) as evincing a λάκις -dv βουλό , ψευδῆ λέγειν
copy, it © some imitator of » τἀληθῆ ἂν εἴποι er, εἰ τύχοι, ba τὸ
from the Oras, μὴ εἰδέναι--σὺ δὲ ὁ σοφός, εἴπερ βού-

1 Ῥῖαξ. Hipp Minor, 866 B-C. λοιο ψεύδεσθαι, δ ἂν κατὰ τὰ αὐτὰ ψεύ-

2 Plato, Hippias Minor, 366 E. Πό- 8010
τερον ov ay fev he ‘tap καὶ ἀεὶ a; Plato, Hipp. Minor, 367 C, 368 E,

58 | HIPPIAS MINOR. Caap. XIII.

of arith: :. ΑὙΟᾺ 866, therefore, Hippias, that the distinction
he chooses. Which you drew and which you said that Homer

drew, between Achilles and Odysseus, will not hold.
You called Achilles veracious, and Odysseus, mendacious: but if
one of the two epithets belongs to either of them, the other must
belong to him also.'

Sokrates then tries to make out that Achilles speaks falsehood
View of in the Iliad, and speaks it very cleverly, because he
Sokrates does so in a way to escape detection from Odysseus
respecting himself. To this Hippias replies, that if Achilles
inthe . ever speaks falsehood, he does it innocently, without
thinks that any purpose of cheating or injuring any one; whereas
Auaks the falsehoods of Odysseus are delivered with fraudu-
falsehood lent and wicked intent.? It is impossible (he con-
Hippias tends) that men who deceive and do wrong wilfully
maintains and intentionally, should be better than those who
Achilles = do so unwillingly and without design. The laws deal
falechood, much more severely with the former than with the
it is with an latter.?
purpose, Upon this point, Hippias (says Sokrates), I dissent
Odysseus from youentirely. I am, unhappily, a stupid person,
does the ΤῊ cannot find out the reality of things: and this
fraudulent appears plainly enough when I come to talk with
wise men like you, for I always find myself differing
taken. from you. My only salvation consists in my earnest
Sokrates anxiety to put questions and learn from you, and in
that those my gratitude for your answers and teaching. I think
who hurt, that those who hurt mankind, or cheat, or lie, or do
lie wilfally, wrong, wilfully—are better than those who do the
than those same unwillingly. Sometimes, indeed, from my stu-
who dothe pidity, the opposite view presents itself to me, and
I become confused: but now, after talking with you,
Hippias tothe fit of confidence has come round upon: me again,
enlighten to pronounce and characterise the persons who do
answer his wrong unwillingly, as worse than those who do wrong
questions. wilfully. I entreat you to heal this disorder of my

λ Hipp. Minor, 869 2 Plat. Hipp. Minor, $70 E.
Plat, Epp. 3 Plat Hipp. Minor, 872 A.

----ς

Cap. XIII. CONCLUSION. 6r

mind will of course be the juster: if it be a combination of both
capacity and knowledge, that mind which is more capable as well
as more knowing, will be the juster—that which is less capable
and leas knowing, will be the more unjust. Htp.—So it appears..
Sokr.—Now we have shown that the more capable and knowing:
mind is at once the better mind, and more competent to exert.
itself both ways—to do what is honourable as well as what is:
base—in every employment. Htp.—Yes. Sokr.—When, there-.
fore, such a mind does what is base, it does so wilfully, through
its capacity or intelligence, which we have seen to be of the.
nature of justice? Hip.—It seems so. Sokr.—Doing base things,
is acting unjustly: doing honourable things, is acting justly.
Accordingly, when this more capable and better mind acts
unjustly, it will do so wilfully ; while the less capable and worse
mind will do so without willing it? Htp.—Apparently.
Sokr.—Now the good man is he that has the good mind: the

bad man is he that has the bad mind. It belongs

Conclusion

therefore to the good man to do wrong wilfully, to —that none
the bad man, to do wrong without wishing it—that butt he good
is, if the good man be he that has the good mind? evil wilfully:
Hip.—But that is unquestionable—that he has it. doesevil un..
Sokr.—Accordingly, he that goes wrong and does base Hippigevan.
and unjust things wilfully, if there be any such cha- notresist
racter—can be no other than the good man. Hip.— ing, but will
I do not know how to concede that to you, Sokrates.t τοὺ 2ccept

Sokr.—Nor I, how to concede it to myself, Hippias : sion 80.

yet so it must appear to us, now at least, from the f

past debate. As I told you long ago, I waver hither

esses his
perplexity.

and thither upon this matter ; my conclusions never remain the.
same. No wonder indeed that I and other vulgar men waver :
but if you wise men waver also, that becomes a fearful mischief
even to us, since we cannot even by coming to you escape from

our embarrassment.?

I will here again remind the reader, that in this, as in the
other dialogues, the real speaker is Plato throughout: and that

1 Plat. Hipp. Min. 375 E, 376 B.

2 Plato, Hipp. Min. 876 Ὁ.

HIPPIAS MINOR.

Cap. XIII.

it is he alone who prefixes the different names to words deter-

mined by himself.

Now, if the dialogue just concluded had come down to us with

the parts inverted, and with the reasoning of Sokrates
assigned to Hippias, most critics would probably have
produced it as a tissue of sophistry justifying the
harsh epithets which they bestow upon the Athenian
Sophists—as persons who considered truth and false-
hood to be on a par—subverters of morality—and
corruptors of the youth of Athens.' But as we read
it, all that, which in the mouth of Hippias would
have passed for sophistry, is here put forward by
Sokrates ; while Hippias not only resists his con-
clusions, and adheres to the received ethical senti-

ment tenaciously, even when he is unable to defend it, but hates
the propositions forced upon him, protests against the perverse
captiousness of Sokrates, and requires much pressing to induce
him to continue the debate. Upon the views adopted by the
critics, Hippias ought to receive credit for this conduct, as a
friend of virtue and morality. ΤῸ me, such reluctance to debate
appears‘a defect rather than a merit ; but I cite the dialogue as
illustrating what I have already said in another place—that

criti: According! “va of the Platonic

&@ specimen of their own procedure
them an example of sophistical

68
dialectic, by defending a sophistical Phil

in 8 sophisti manner : That
he che chooses and demonstrates at |
the thesis—the liar is not different
from the trath-teller—as an exposure
of the sophistical art of proving the
contrary of any given propositio and
for the purpose of deri ng an
masking the false morality Hippias,
who in this dialogue talks reasonably

eno
ἐν ἫΝ while he affirms that this
-4s the purpose of Plato, admits that
here ed to Sokrates is
unworthy of him; and §
tains that Plato never over froqus had
y such purpose, “ however frequen
(Steinhart τὰ cccur ta "th “4 sophistical artifices
this conversation of

Sokrates, which artifices Sokrates no
more disdained to employ than any
other hilosopher or rhetorician of that

γ C80 auch in seinen Erdr-

ΤΩΣ κα sophis ische Kunstgriffe vor-

and kommen mogen, die Sokrates-eben so

wenig verschmibt hat, als irgend ein
osoph oder Redekiiastler dieser
Zeit"). Steinhart, Einleitung sum
Hipp. Minor, p
do not’ Pamit the p here
ascribed to Plato by Schw: , but I
refer to the as illustrating what

Platonic ics ἢ of the reasoning

un- assigned to Sokrates in the Bippiss

Minor, and the hypotheses which
introduce to colour it.
cited from Steinhart
also thet Sokrates no more disdained
to employ sophistical artifices than any
other philosopher or rhetorician of the
age—is worthy of note, as coming from
one who is £0. very bitter in his invec-
ves against Nate of ab of the per-
sons called So iste, of ch we have

QUESTIONS OF SOKRATES. 59

Cap. ΧΙ.

mind. You will do me much more good than if you cured my
body of adistemper. But it will be useless for you to give me
one of your long discourses : for I warn you that I cannot follow
it. The only way to confer upon me real service, will be to
answer my questions again, as you have hitherto done. Assist
me, Eudikus, in persuading Hippias to do so.

Assistance from me (says Eudikus) will hardly be needed, for
Hippias professed himself ready to answer any man’s questions.

Yes—I did so (replies Hippias)—but Sokrates always brings
trouble into the debate, and proceeds like one disposed to do
mischief.

Eudikus repeats his request, and Hippias, in deference to him,
consents to resume the task of answering.}

Sokrates then produces a string of questions, with a view to

show that those who do wrong wilfully, are better Questions

than those who do wrong unwillingly. He appeals οἵ multiplied

to various analogies. In running, the good runner is analogies of
Θ spec

he who runs quickly, the bad runner is he who runs
slowly. What is evil and base in running, is, to run
slowly. It is the good runner who does this evil

wilfully : it is the bad runner who does it un-
willingly.2 The like is true about wrestling and
other bodily exercises. He that is good in the body,
can work either strongly or feebly,—can do either what
is honourable or what is base ; so that when he does
what is base, he does it wilfully. But he that is bad
in the body does what is base unwillingly, not being

ly, whe-
ther he will
or not, is
worse than
the skilful,
who can
sing well
when he
chooses, but
can alsosing

badly when
he chooses.

able to help it.

What is true about the bodily movements depending upon
strength, is not less true about those depending on grace and
elegance. To be wilfully ungraceful, belongs only to the well-
constituted body: none but the badly-constituted body is un-
graceful without wishing it. The same, also, about the feet,
voice, eyes, ears, nose: of these organs, those which act badly
through will and intention, are preferable to those which act
badly without will or intention. Lameness of feet is a mis-

1 Plat. Hipp. Min. 878 B. 2 Plat. Hipp. Min. 878 D-E.
3 Plat. Hipp. Min. 374 B.

60 HIPPIAS MINOR. Cuap. XIII.

fortune and disgrace: feet which go lame only by intention are
much to be preferred.!

Again, in the instruments which we use, a rudder or a bow,—
or the animals about us, horses or dogs,—those are better with
which we work badly when we choose; those are worse, with
which we work badly without design, and contrary to our own
wishes.

It is better to have the mind of a bowman who misses his
It is better mark by design, than that of one who misses when
tohavethe he tries to hit. The like about all other arts—the
bowman Physician, the harper, the flute-player. In each of
who misses. these artists, that mind is better, which goes wrong
only by wilfully—that mind is worse, which goes wrong un-
design than willingly, while wishing to go right. In regard to
who misses the minds of our slaves, we should all prefer those
he intends Which go wrong only when they choose, to those which
go wrong without their own choice.?

Having carried his examination through this string of analo-
gous particulars, and having obtained from Hippias successive
answers—* Yes—true in that particular case,” Sokrates proceeds
to sum up the result :—

Sokr.—Well! should we not wish to have our own minds as
good as possible? Hip.—Yes. Sokr.—We have seen that they
will be better if they do mischief and go wrong wilfully, than if
they do so unwillingly?) Hvp.—But it will be dreadful, Sokrates,
if the willing wrong-doers are to pass for better men than the
unwilling.

Sokr.—Nevertheless—it seems so:—from what we have said.
Dissent ana 2.—It does not seem so to me. Sokr.—I thought
ugnance that it would have seemed so to you, as it does to me.

ppias. However, answer me once more—Is not justice either
a certain mental capacity? or else knowledge? or both together ?°
Hip.—Yes! it is. Sokr.—If justice be a capacity of the mind,
the more capable mind will also be the juster: and we have
already seen that the more capable soul is the better. Hip.—We
have. Sokr.—If it be knowledge, the more knowing or wiser

1 Plat. Hipp. Min. 874 C-D. 2 Plat. Hipp. Min. 875 Ὁ. ἡ &-

2 καιοσύνη οὗχι ἣ δύναμίς τίς ἐστιν, ἣ
Plat. Hipp. Min. 875 B-D. , ἐπιστήμη, ἢ αὶ bérepa ;

Cuap. XIII. ITS SCOPE. 63

Sokrates and Plato threw out more startling novelties in ethical
doctrine, than either Hippias or Protagoras, or any of the other
persons denounced as Sophists.

That Plato intended to represent this accomplished Sophist as
humiliated by Sokrates, is evident enough : and the Polemical
words put into his mouth are suited to this purpose. purpose of
The eloquent lecturer, so soon as his admiring crowd a etippins
of auditors has retired, proves unable to parry the humiliated

. . . ΜΝ . y Sokrates.
questions of a single expert dialectician who remains
behind, upon a matter which appears to him almost self-evident,
and upon which every one (from Homer downward) agrees with
him. Besides this, however, Plato is not satisfied without mak-
ing him say very simple and absurd things. All this is the p2r-
sonal, polemical, comic scope of the dialogue. It lends (whether
well-placed or not) a certain animation and variety, which the
author naturally looked out for, m an aggregate of dialogues all
handling analogous matters about man and society.

But though the polemical purpose of the dialogue is thus
plain, its philosophical purpose perplexes the critics considerably.
They do not like to see Sokrates employing sophistry against the
Sophists : that is, as they think, casting out devils by the help of
Beelzebub. And certainly, upon the theory which they adopt,
respecting the relation between Plato and Sokrates on one side,
and the Sophists on the other, I think this dialogue is very diffi-
cult to explain. But Ido not think it is difficult, upon a true
theory of the Platonic writings.

In a former chapter, I tried to elucidate the general character
and purpose of those Dialogues of Search, which
occupy more than half the Thrasyllean Canon, and of Philosophi-
which we have already reviewed two or three speci- οἵ the dia-
mens—Euthyphron, Alkibiadés, ἄς. We have seen theory of
that they are distinguished by the absence of any foe ie
affirmative conclusion : that they prove nothing, but Search
only, at the most, disprove one or more supposable end of
solutions : that they are not processes in which one Knowledge
man who knows communicates his knowledge to igno- stood
rant hearers, but in which all are alike ignorant, and
all are employed, either in groping, or guessing, or testing the
guesses of the rest. We have farther seen that the value of these

Plato.

64 HIPPIAS MINOR. Caar. XII

Dialogues depends upon the Platonic theory about knowledge ;
that Plato did not consider any one to know, who could not ex-
plain to others all that he knew, reply to the cross-examination
of a Sokratic Elenchus, and cross-examine others to test their’
knowledge : that knowledge in this sense could not be attained
by hearing, or reading, or committing to memory a theorem, to-
gether with the steps of reasoning which directly conducted to
it :—but that there was required, besides, an acquaintance with
many counter-theorems, each having more or less appearance of
truth ; as well as with various embarrassing aspects and plausible
delusions on the subject, which an expert cross-examiner would
not fail to urge. Unless you are practised in meeting all the
difficulties which he can devise, you cannot be said to know.
Moreover, it is in this last portion of the conditions of knowledge,
that most aspirants are found wanting.

Now the Greater and Lesser Hippias are peculiar specimens

of these Dialogues of Search, and each serves the pur-

Zhe Hippias pose above indicated. The Greater Hippias enume-
plication of rates a string of tentatives, each one of which ends in
τ ιϑοκταίου acknowledged failure: the Lesser Hippias enunciates
sets 10 a

ἃ thesis, which Sokrates proceeds to demonstrate, by
plausible arguments such as Hippias is forced to
admit. But though Hippias admits each successive
step, he still mistrusts the conclusion, and suspects
that he has been misled—a feeling which Plato?
describes elsewhere as being frequent among the
respondents of Sokrates. Nay, Sokrates himself
shares in the mistrust—presents himself as an un-

willing propounder of arguments which force themselves upon
him,? and complains of his own mental embarrassment. Now
you may call this sophistry, if you please; and you may silence

1 Plato, Republ. vi. 487 B.

Kat ὁ ᾿Αδείμαντος, Ὧ Σώκρατες, ἔφη,
πρὸς μὲν ταῦτά σοι οὐδεὶς ἂν οἷός τ᾽ εἴη
ἀντειπεῖν: ἀλλὰ γὰρ τοιόνδε τι πάσ-
χουσιν οἱ ἀκούοντες ἑκάστοτε ἃ νῦν
λέγεις" ἡγοῦνται δι᾽ ἀπειρίαν τοῦ ἐρω-
τᾷἄν καὶ ἀποκρίνεσθαι, ὑπὸ τοῦ λόγον

φαίνεσθαι . . . ἐπεὶ τό γε ἀληθὲς οὐδέν

Sophists for generating
wap ἕκαστον τὸ ἐρώτημα σμικρὸν παρ- scepticism and uncertainty.
Fre στε τῶν λόγων, tia Pes -4, 2 Plato, Hipp. Minor, 818 B; also

ἐπὶ τελευτῆς τῶν λόχων,

σφάλμα καὶ ἐναντίον τοῖς πρώτοις ἄνα. δὴ last sentence af the dialogue.

Cuap. XIII. ᾿ CONFUSION AND ERROR. 65

its propounders by calling them hard names. But such ethical
prudery—hiding all the uncomfortable logical puzzles which
start up when you begin to analyse an established sentiment,
and treating them as non-existent because you refuse to look at
them—is not the way to attain what Plato calls knowledge.
If there be any argument, the process of which seems indis-
putable, while yet its conclusion contradicts, or seems to eon-
tradict, what is known upon other evidence—the full and patient
analysis of that argument is indispensable, before you can be-
come master of the truth and able to defend it. Until you have
gone through such analysis, your mind must remain in that
state of confusion which is indicated by Sokrates at the end
of the Lesser Hippias. As it is a part of the process of Search,
to travel: in the path of the Greater Hippias—that is, to go
through a string of erroneous solutions, each of which can be
proved, by reasons shown, to be erroneous: so it is an equally
important part of the same process, to travel in the path of the
Lesser Hippias—that is, to acquaint ourselves with all those
arguments, bearing on the case, in which two contrary conclu-
sions appear to be both of them plausibly demonstrated, and
in which therefore we cannot as yet determine which of them
is erroneous—or whether both are not erroneous. The Greater
Hippias exhibits errors,—the Lesser Hippias puts before us
confusion. With both these enemies the Searcher for truth
must contend: and Bacon tells us, that confusion is the worst
enemy of the two—“ Citius emergit veritas ex errore, quam ex
confusione”. Plato, in the Lesser Hippias, having in hand a
genuine Sokratic thesis, does not disdain to invest Sokrates with
the task (sophistical, as some call it, yet not the less useful and
instructive) of setting forth at large this case of confusion, and
avowing his inability to clear it up. It is enough for Sokrates
that he brings home the painful sense of confusion to the feelings
of his hearer as’ well as to his own.. In.that painful sentiment
lies the stimulus provocative of farther intellectual effort.1 The
dialogue: ends ; -but ‘the :process of. search, far from ending along
with. it: is. emphatically Aeclared "το" “be! urifinished, and“ to be.

Pa we dd ΑἿΣ a cod . idee nee!
erat? ἘΞ ΕΣ .
sh jis opti τα Sypris » τῆς δὲ is declared to arise
623-524, where the τὸ 3 wapaxhyronoy καὶ from the wiih ἧ elt contradiction.
2—5

686 -HIPPIAS: MINOR. Cuap. XII:

in a condition not merely unsatisfactory but intolerable, not to be
relieved except by farther investigation, which thus becomes a
necessary sequel. ᾿

. There are two circumstances which lend particular interest to
this dialogue—Hippias Minor. 1. That the thesis out of: which
the confusion arises, is one which we know to have been laid
down by the historical Sokrates himself. 2. That Aristotle ex-
pressly notices this thesis, as well as the dialogue in which it is
contained, and combats it.

Sokrates in his conversation with the youthful Euthydemus
The thesis (in the Xenophontic Memorabilia) maintains, that of
hereby Se. Wo persons, each of whom deceives his friends in a

is manner to produce mischief, the one who does so
oa be the wilfully is not so unjust as the one who does so
historical unwillingly.. Euthydemus (like Hippias in this
the Xeno- dialogue) maintains the opposite, but is refuted by
emora- Sokrates; who argues that justice is a matter to be
: learnt and known like letters ; that the lettered man,
who has learnt and knows letters, can write wrongly when he
chooses, but never writes wrongly unless he chooses—while it —
is only the unlettered man who writes wrongly unwillingly and
without intending it: that in like manner the just man, he that
has learnt and knows justice, never commits injustice unless
when he intends it—while the unjust. man, who has not learnt
and does not know justice, commits injustice whether he will or
not. It is the just man therefore, and none but the just man
{Sokrates maintains), who commits injustice knowingly and
wilfully : it is the unjust man who commits injustice without
wishing or intending it.*

This is the same view which is worked out by the Platonic
Sokrates in the Hippias Minor: beginning with the antithesis
between the veracious and mendacions man (as Sokrates begins
in Xenophon); and concluding with the general result—that it

1Xen. Mem. fv. 2, 19. τῶν δὲ δι chief; and Schneider, ἕω his

Gin wba poor wapedetoauer reed gives Bocendl const”. Bet δὶ .
Cre owe Necreee terat ane hs με inpemiig, for the words ὃ ἄκμων
ἅκων; sach purpose.

The natural meaning of éwi Ἢ ΑΉΡΙΣ
would be, “for the - cose af ule 2 Xen. Mem. iv. 2, 9.42.

Crap. XIII: REMARK OF ARISTOTLE. ᾿ 67

belongs to the good man to dé wrong wilfully, to the bad man to
do wrong unwillingly.

Aristotle, in commenting upon this doctrine of the Hippias
Minor, remarks justly, that Plato understands the 4 istotie
epithets veractous and mendactous in a sense different combate the
from that which they usually bear. Plato under- guments
stands the words as designating one who can tell the ®stinst it.
truth if he chooses—one who can speak falsely if he chooses:
and in this sense he argues plausibly that the two epithets go
tagether, and that no man can be mendacious unless he be also
veracious. Aristotle points out that the epithets in their re-
ceived meaning are applied, not to the power itself, but to the
habitual and intentional use of that power. The power itself is
doubtless presupposed or implied as one condition to the applica-
bility of the epithets, and is one common condition to the appli-
cability of both epithets: but the distinction, which they are
intended to draw, regards the intentions and dispositions with
which the power is employed. So also Aristotle observes that
Plato’s conclusion—“ He that does wrong wilfully is a better
man than he that does wrong unwillingly,” is falsely collected
from induction or analogy. The analogy of the special arts and
accomplishments, upon which the argument is built, is not
_ applicable. .Better has reference, not to the amount of intel-
ligence but to the dispositions and habitual intentions ; though
it presupposes a certain state and amount of intelligence as
indispensable.

Both Sokrates and Plato (in many of his dialogues) commit
the error of which the above is one particular mani- yyistake of
festation—that of dwelling exclusively on the intel- Sokrates
lectual conditions of human conduct, and omitting to in dwelling
give proper attention to the emotional and volitional, *° ϑχοῖα-
as essentially co-operating or preponderating in the in
complex meaning of ethical attributes. The reason- of human
ing ascribed to the Platonic Sokrates in the Hippias °Dduct.

1 Aristotel. Motaphye Δ' Ὁ. 1025, all vice into amo
a. 5; compare Ethic. iv. p. other ienorenee fee mons
1127, b. i. 1182, a. 16; 1188, b. 9; 1190, Ὁ. ἐδ.

3 Aristotle very beerva; Ethic. Eudem. i 1216,” b. The

68 HIPPIAS MINOR. Cuar. XITL

Minor exemplifies this one-sided view. What he says is true,
but it is only a part of the truth. When he speaks of a person
_ “who does wrong unwillingly,” he seems to have in view one
who does wrong without knowing that he does so: one whose
intelligence is so defective that he does not know when he speaks
truth and when he speaks falsehood. Now a person thus un-
happily circumstanced must be regarded as half-witted or
imbecile, coming under the head which the Xenophontic Sokrates
called madness:' unfit to pefform any part in society, and
requiring to be placed under. tutelage. Compared with such a
person, the opinion of the Platonic Sokrates may be defended—
that the mendacious person, who can tell truth when he chooses,
is the better of the two in the sense of less mischievous or
dangerous. But he is the object of a very different sentiment ;
moreover, this is not the comparison present to our minds when
we call one man veracious, another man mendacious. We
always assume, in every one, ἃ measure of intelligence equal or
superior to the admissible minimum; under such assumption,
we compare two persons, one of whom speaks to the best of his
knowledge and belief, the other, contrary to his knowledge and
belief. We approve the former and disapprove the latter,
according to the different intention and purpose of each (as
Aristotle observes) ; that is, looking at them under the point of
view of emotion and volition—which is logically distinguish-
able from the intelligence, though always acting in conjunction
with it.
Again, the analogy of the special arts, upon which the Platonic
Sokrates dwells in the Hippias Minor, fails in sus-:
{hey rely taining his inference. By a good runner, wrestler,
on snalogy 0 6 harper, singer, speaker, &c., we undoubtedly mean
the spacial one who can, if he pleases, perform some one of these
take no nce operations well ; although he can also, if he pleases,
οἱ το ἑακὶ δ perform them badly. But the epithets good or bad,
tions under. in this case, consider exclusively that element which
ΑΨ was left out, and leave out that element which was
praise and exclusively considered, in the former case. The good
singer is declared to stand distinguished from the bad

1 Xen. Mem. iii 9, 7. τοὺς διημαρτηκότας, ὧν οἱ πολλοὶ γιγνώσκουσι, μαιγομένονς
καλεῖν. ἂς.

Cap. XIII. GOOD OR BAD—HOW UNDERSTOOD. 69

singer, or from the ἰδιώτης, who, if he sings at all, will certainly
sing badly, by an attribute belonging to his intelligence and
vocal organs. To sing well is a special accomplishment, which is
possessed only by a few, and which no mana is blamed for not
possessing. The distinction between such special accomplish-
ments, and justice or rectitude of behaviour, is well brought
out in the speech which Plato puts into the mouth of the
Sophist Protagoras.: ‘The special artists (he says) are few
in number: one of them is sufficient for many private
citizens. But every citizen, without exception, must possess
justice and a sense of shame: if he does not, he must be put
away as a nuisance—otherwise, society could not be maintained.”
The special artist is a citizen also; and as such, must be subject.
to the obligations binding on all citizens universally. In predi-
eating of him that he is good or bad as a citizen, we merely
assume him to possess the average intelligence of the community ;
and the epithet declares whether his emotional and volitional
attributes exceed, or fall short of, the minimum required in the
application of that intelligence to his social obligations. It is
thus that the words good or bad when applied to him as a citizen,
have a totally different bearing from that which the same words
have when applied to him in his character of special artist.

The value of these debates in the Platonic dialogues consists in
their raising questions like the preceding, for the vane ote
reflection of the reader—whether the Platonic So- Dialogue of
krates may or may not be represented as taking what it shall be
we think the right view of the question. For a Svagestive,
Dialogue of Search, the great merit is, that it should shall bring
be suggestive ; that it should bring before our atten- different
tion the conditions requisite for a right and proper fhe nics.
use of these common ethical epithets, and the state of tion under
circumstances which is tacitly implied whenever any Το
_one uses them. No man ever learns to reflect upon the meaning
of such familiar epithets, which he has been using all his life—
unless the process be forced upon his attention by some special
conversation which brings home to him an uncomfortable senti-
ment of perplexity and contradiction. If a man intends to

1 Plato, Protagoras, 822.

70 ον -HIPPIAS MINOR, Cuar. XIIL

acquire any grasp of ethical or political theory, he must render
himself master, not only of the sound arguments and the guiding
analogies but also of the unsound arguments and the misleading
analogies, which bear upon each portion of it.

There is one other point of similitude deserving notice, between
Antithesis the Greater and Lesser Hippias. In both of them,
between ' Hippias makes special complaint of Sokrates, for
and Dia- . breaking the question in pieces and picking out the
lectic. minute puzzling fragments—instead of keeping it
together as a whole, and applying to it the predicates which it
merits when so considered.? Here is the standing antithesis
between Rhetoric and Dialectic: between those unconsciously
acquired mental combinations which are poured out in eloquent,
impressive, unconditional, and undistinguishing generalities—
and the logical analysis which resolves the generality into its
specialities, bringing to view inconsistencies, contradictions,
limits, qualifications, &c. I have already touched upon this
at the close of the Greater Hippias.

- 1 Plato, Hipp. Min. 369 ΒΟ. °QO function of the Dialectician.

Σώκρατες, dei σύ τινας τοιούτους πλέ- ἔστι γάρ, ὡς ἁπλῶς εἰπεῖν, διαλε-
κεις Adyous, καὶ ἀπολαμβάνων ὃ ἂν ἢ κτικὸς 6 κὸς καὶ ἐνστατικός "
δυσχερέστατον τοῦ λόγον, τούτον ἔχει ἔστι δὲ τὸ προτεΐνεσθαι, ἣν ποιεῖν τὰ

κατὰ σμικρὸν ἐφαπτόμενος, καὶ οὐχ ὅλῳ πλείω (δεῖ γὰρ ἂν ὅλῳ ληφθῆναι πρὸς
ἀγωνίζει τῷ πράγματι, περὶ ὅτου ἂν ὁ ὃ ὁ | νεῖ ᾿ ἀνί

‘A remark of Aristotle (Topica, viii. διδούς, τὸ & οὔ, τῶν προτεινομένων.
164, Ὁ. 2) illustrates this dissecting |

CuHap. XIV. HIPPARCHUS-——MINOS.

CHAPTER XIV.

HIPPARCHUS—MINOS.

In these two dialogues, Plato sets before us two farther specimens
of that error and confusion which beset the enquirer during his
search after “reasoned truth”. Sokrates forces upon the atten-
tion of a companion two of the most familiar words of the mar-
ket-place, to see whether a clear explanation of their meaning

can be obtained.

In, the dialogue called Hipparchus, the debate turns on the

definition of τὸ φιλοκερδὲς or ὁ piroxepdys—the love
of gain or the lover of gain. Sokrates asks his Com-
panion to define the word. The Companion replies
—He is one who thinks it right to gain from things
worth nothing.1 Does he do this (asks Sokrates)
knowing that the things are worth nothing? or not
knowing? If the latter, he is simply ignorant. He
knows it perfectly well (is the reply). He is cunning
and wicked ; and it is because he cannot resist the
temptation of gain, that he has the impudence to
make profit by such things, though well aware that
they are worth nothing. Sokr.—Suppose a husband-

man, knowing that the plant which he is tending is to ge

worthless—and yet thinking that he ought to gain
by it: does not that correspond to your description of
the lover of gain? OComp.—The lover of gain, So-
krates, thinks that he ought to gain from every thing.

Sokr.—Do not answer in that reckless manner,’ as if 8 lover of

you had been wronged by any one ; but answer with

1 Plato, Hipparch. 225 A. οἱ ἂν anand ἀξιῶσιν ἀπὸ τῶν μηδενὸς ἀξίων.

72 HIPPARCHUS—MINOS: Cuuap. XIV.

attention. You agree that the lover of gain knows the value of
that from which he intends to derive profit ; and that the hus-
bandman is the person cognizant of the value of plants. Comp.
—Yes: I agree. Sokr.—Do not therefore attempt, you are so
young, to deceive an old man like me, by giving answers not
in conformity with your own admissions ; but tell me plainly,
Do you believe that the experienced husbandman, when he
knows that he is planting a tree worth nothing, thinks that
he shall gain by it? Comp.—No, certainly : I do not believe it.

Sokrates then proceeds to multiply illustrations to the same
general point. The good horseman does not expect to gain by
worthless food given to his horse: the good pilot, by worthless
tackle put into his ship: the good commander, by worthless arms
delivered to his soldiers: the good fifer, harper, bowman, by em-
ploying worthless instruments of their respective arts, if they
know them to be worthless.

None of these persons (concludes Sokrates) correspond to your
Gainisgood. description of the lover of gain. Where then can you
Every man find a lover of gain? On your explanation, no man
therefore is 80.1 Comp.—I mean, Sokrates, that the lovers of
Srelorers gain are those, who, through greediness, long eagerly
of gain. for things altogether petty and worthless ; and thus
display a love of gain.* Sokr.—Not surely knowing them to be
worthless—for this we have shown to be impossible—but igno-
rant that they are worthless, and believing them to be valuable.
Comp.—It appears so. Sokr.—Now gain is the opposite of logs :
and loss is evil and hurt to every one: therefore gain (as the
opposite of loss) is good. Comp.—Yes. Sokr.—It appears then
that the lovers of good are those whom you call lovers of gain?
Comp.—Yes: if appears eo. Sokr.—Do not you yourself love
good—all good things? Comp.—Certainly. Sokr.—And I too,
and every one else. All men love good things, and hate evil.
Now we agreed that gain was a good : so that by this reasoning,
it appears that all men are lovers of gain—while by the former
reasoning, we made out that none were so.* Which of the two

1 Plat. Hi pareh, ὅ 226 D. ἀπληστίας καὶ πανὺ σμικρὰ καὶ orl
2 Plat. Hippare ons Ὁ. ‘AAV’ ἄξια καὶ εοὐδενὺς γλίχονται Seepbtoe
ἀγὼ, ὦ Σώκρ pos λέγειν τού- καὶ ῦσιν.

τοὺς φιλοκερδεῖς, ᾿ὲ vas, roe ἢ ἑκάστοτε ὑπὸ ipparch. 227 C.

Cuar. XIV. APPARENT CONTRADICTION. . 73

shall we adopt, to avoid error. Comp.—We shall commit no
error, Sokrates, if we rightly conceive the lover of gain. He is
one who busies himself upon, and seeks to gain from, things
from which good men do not venture to gain.

Sokr.—But, my friend, we agreed just now, that gain was a
good, and that all men always love good. It follows apparent
therefore, that good men as well as others love all coutradic-
gains, if gains are good things. Comp.—Not, cer- krates ac-
tainly, those gains by which they will afterwards be Somarion
hurt. Sokr.—Be hurt: you mean, by which they of tying to
will become losers. Comp.—I mean that and nothing Accusation
else, Sokr.—Do they become losers by gain, or by Srorde™
loes? Comp.—By both : by loss, and by evil gain. krates.
Sokr.—Does it appear to you that any useful and good thing is
evil? Comp.—No. Sokr.—Well! we agreed just now that gain |
was. the opposite of loss, which was evil ; and that, being the
opposite of evil, gain was good. Comp.—That was what we
agreed. Sokr.—You see how it is: you are trying to deceive
me; you purposely contradict what we just now agreed upon.
Comp.—Not at all, by Zeus: on the contrary, it is you, Sokrates,
who deceive me, wriggling up and. down in your talk, I cannot
tell how.? Sokr.—Be careful what you say: I should be very
culpable, if I disobeyed a good and wise monitor. -Comp.—
Whom do you mean : and what do you mean? Sokr.—Hippar-
chus, son of Peisistratus.

Sokrates then describes at some length the excellent character
of Hipparchus : his beneficent rule, his wisdom, his precept in-
anxiety for the moral improvement of the Athenians: ®tibed for-
the causes, different from what was commonly be- Hipparchus
lieved, which led to his death ; and the wholesome aoe
precepts which he during his life had caused to be ooerer de-
inscribed on various busts of Hermes throughout friend”. Eu-
Attica. . One of these busts or Hermz bore the words eT οἱ ΠΡ’
—Do not deceive a friend.? Bokrates

1Plat. Hipparch. 228 A. Sokr. 3 Plat. Hipparch. 228 B—229 Ὁ.
Ὃρᾷς οὖν ; ἐπιχειρεῖς με ἐξαπατᾷν, ἐπί- The picture here given of Hip-
αντία λέγων ols ἄρτι ὡμολογή- parchus deserves notice. We are in-
res ἐ “Comp. OF μὰ Ai’, ὦ Σώκρατες - ormed ‘that he was older than his
ἀλλὰ Τοὐναντίον σὺ σὺ ἐμὰ ἐξαναστάς καὶ brother r Hippias, which was the general
beliet ens, as Thucydides Gi. 20, 20,
vi. 58) affirms, though himself co

74 _ HIPPARCHUS—MINOS. Cauap. XIV.

The Companion resumes :—Apparently, Sokrates, either you
do not account me your friend, or you do not obey Hippar-
chus: for you are certainly deceiving me in some unaccount-
able way in your talk. You cannot persuade me te the
con

Sokr. Well then 1 in order that you may not think yourself
Sokrates | deceived, you may take back any move that you
aoovanion choose, as if we were playing at draughts. Which of

retract your admissions do you wish to retract—That all men
answers. desire good things? That loss (to be a loser) is evil ?
Thecom- That gain is the opposite of loss: that to gain is the

t opposite of to lose? That to gain, as being the oppo-
sood other site of evil, is a good thing? Comp.—No. . I do. not
gin isevil. retract any one of these. Sokr.—You think then, it
appears, that some gain is good, other gain evil? Comp.—Yes,
that is what I do think. Sokr.—Well, I give you back ‘that |
move : let it stand as you say. Some gain is good: other gain
is bad. But surely the good gain is no more gas, than the bad
gain: both are gain, alike and equally. Oomp.—Eow do you
mean ?

Sokrates then illustrates his question by two or three analogies.
Questions Bad food is just as much food, as good food : bad drink,
ogee as much drink as good drink : a good man is no more
is gain, 8 as = man than a bad man.?
ape Sokr.—In like manner, bad gain, and good gain,

ds the are (both of them) gain alike—neither of them more
Property, in or Jess than the other. Such being the case, what is
which both that common quality possessed by both, which induces

cting it, an ἃ affirming that Hippias poems made uent and complete :
dicting. however also upon his in with the poots
point, Anakreon and Simoni -

with Thucydides in this
Ὁ the three years after the ing which Fiato ves to the intimacy
Hippias alone, ὦ of is also é is
were years
oppression and ; and that the sented by Plato as for the educa-
hateful the tion and impro F
tide, which always survived in and the jealousy felt towards
ds of th ns, was derived parchus is
ledge abilities
the pi mich Plato of Hipparchus, which ren him

Cap. XIV. GENERAL CONCEPTION OF GAIN. 15

you to call them by the same name Gain?! Would Genet Bory

you call Gain any acquisition which one makes either
with a smaller outlay or with no outlay at all?? Comp.
—Yes. I should call that gain. Sokr.—For example,

if after being at a banquet, not only without any out- 1a

lay, but receiving an excellent dinner, you acquire an

Vv
uisition,
e with
no outlay,
or witha
smaller out-
is gain.
Objections
e acqui-
sition may

illness? Oomp.—Not at all: that is no gain. Sokr.

—But if from the banquet you acquire health, would Pocvi. Bm:
that be gain or loss? Comp.—It would be gain. Sokr. confessed.
—Not every acquisition therefore is gain, but only such acquisi-
tions as are good and not evil: if the acquisition be evil, it is
loss. Comp.—Exactly so. Sokr.—Well, now, you see, you are
come round again to the very same point: Gain is good. Loss
is evil. Comp.—I am puzzled what to say.° Sokr.—You have

good reason to be puzzled.

But tell me: you say that if a man lays ont little and acquires

much, that is gain? Comp.—Yes: but not if it be evil:
it is gain, if it be good, like gold or silver.
I will ask you about gold and silver. Suppose a man
by laying out one pound of gold acquires two pounds
of silver, is it gain or loss? Comp.—It is loss, de-

cidedly, Sokrates : gold is twelve times the value of ἃ

Sokr.—
tha

silver. Sokr.—Nevertheless he has acquired more : ralue, than
Ἀ . Θ outlay.
double is more than half. Comp.—Not in value: The valu-

double silver is not more than half gold. Sokr.—It

re
appears then that we must include value as essential Efe prof
to gain, not merely quantity. The valuable is gain : good. Con-
the valueless is no gain. The valuable is that which Clusion ΠΩ
is valuable to possess : is that the profitable, or the That Gain ᾿

unprofitable? Comp.—It is the profitable. Sokr.—

But the profitable is good? Comp.—Yes:

it is. Sokr—Why

then, here, the same conclusion comes back to us as agreed, for

the third or fourth time. The gainful is good.

so.*

Comp.—It

Sokr.—Let me remind you of what has passed. You contended

1 Plat. Hipparch. “pts διὰ τί or ὡς ἐάν αὖ περιτ
wore ἀμφότερα αὑτὰ κέ καλεῖς; τί μὲν a
ταὐτὸν ἐν ἀμφοτέροις ὁρῶν; ζημία κακόν; Comp. A

8 Plat. Hipparch. 281 A.
3 Plat. Hipparch. 281 C. Sokr. Ὁρᾷς

τι εἵπω.

εἰς εἰς τὸ αὐτὸ
Petes ai ἡ δὲ

Οὐκ ἀδίκων ye σὺ ἀπο-
ρῶν.
4 Plato, Hipparch. 281 D-E, 232 A.

16 HIPPARCHUS—MINOS. CHap. XIV.

Recapitula- that good men did not wish to acquire all sorts of
tion. The gain, but only such as were good, and not such as
shown that were evil. But now, the debate has compelled us to
all gain is acknowledge that all gains are good, whether small or

there great. Comp.—As for me, Sokrates, the debate has
compelled me rather than persuaded me? Sokr.—
men are Presently, perhaps, it may even persuade you. But
Gain. No now, whether you have been persuaded or not, you at
tobere least. concur with me in affirming that all gains,
Pri e 80. whether small or great, are good. That all good men
The Com- wish for all good things. Comp.—Ido concur. Sokr.
compelled —Dbut you yourself stated that evil men love all gains,
toadmit small and great? Comp.—I said so. Sokr.—Accord-
he declares ing to your doctrine then, all men are lovers of gain,
that heis the good men as well as the evil? Comp.—Apparently
suaded. so. Sokr.—It is therefore wrong to reproach any man
as a lover of gain: for the person who reproaches is himself a
lover of gain, just as much.

The Minos, like the Hipparchus, is a dialogue carried on be-
tween Sokrates and a companion not named. It
Question relates to Law, or The Law—
put by So- = Sokr.—What is Law (asks Sokrates)? Comp.—
the Com Respecting what sort of Law do you enquire (replies
isLaw, or the Companion)? Sokr.—What! is there any differ-
The Law? ence between one law and another law, as to that
thesame, identical circumstance, of being Law? Gold does not

w: What differ from gold, so far as the being gold is concerned
is the com ~—nor stone from stone, so far as being stone is con-
tuent attri- cerned. In like manner, one law does not differ from
another, all are the same, in so far as each is Law
alike :—not, one of them more, and another less. It is about
this as a whole that I ask you—What is Law?

Comp.—What should Law be, Sokrates, other than the various
Answer— assemblage of consecrated and binding customs and
Law is, beliefs?2 Sokr.—Do you think, then, that discourse

1 Plat. Hipparch. 282 A.B. Solr. Sokr. ᾿Αλλ᾽ ἴσως μετὰ τοῦτο καὶ πείσειεν

Οὐκοῦν viv πάντα τὰ κέρδη ὁ λόγος ἡμᾶς ἄν.

ἡνάγκακε καὶ σμικρὰ καὶ μαγάλα ὁμολο. 8 Plato, Mins, 818 B. Τί οὖν ἄλλο
wa εἷναι; Comp. ᾿Ηνάγκακε ᾿ rs ety ΩΣ .

ἐν Soe, ς, μᾶλλον ἐμέ ye τ᾽ πέπεικεν, νόμος εἴη ἂν ἀλλ᾽ ἣ τὰ νομιζόμενα;

Cuap. XIV. WHAT IS LAW?

is, the things spoken : that sight is, the things seen? 1.
that hearing is, the things heard? Or are they not
distinct, in each of the three cases—and is not Law
also one thing, the various customs and beliefs
another? Comp.—Yes! I now think that they are
distinct.! Sokr.—Law is that whereby these binding
customs become binding. What is it? Comp.—Law can be
nothing else than the public resolutions and decrees promulgated
among us. Law is the decree of the city.2 Sokr.—You mean,
that Law is social opinion. Comp.—Yes—I do.

of the city.
8. Social

or civic
opinion.

Sokr.—Perhaps you are right: but let us examine.
some persons wise :—they are wise through wisdom.
You call some just :—they are just through justice.

In like manner, the lawfully-behaving men are so Sokrates—

through law: the lawless men are so through lawless-
ness. Now the lawfully-behaving men are just : the
lawless men are unjust. Comp.—It is so. Sokr.—
Justice and Law, are highly honourable: injustice
and lawlessness, highly dishonourable: the former
preserves cities, the latter ruins them. Comp.—Yes—
it does. Sokr.—Well, then! we must consider law as
something honourable ; and seek after it, under the
assumption that it is a good thing. You defined law
to be the decree of the city: Are not some decrees
good, others evil? Comp.—Unquestionably. Sokr.
—But we have already said that law is not evil.
Comp.—I admit it. Sokr.—It is incorrect therefore

to answer, as you did broadly, that law is the decree τ

of the city. An evil decree cannot be law. Comp.—
I see that it is incorrect.*

Sokr.—Still—I think, myself, that law is opinion of some

sort ; and since it is not evil opinion, it must be good
opinion. Now good opinion is true opinion: and
true opinion is, the finding out of reality. Comp.—
I admit it. Sokr.—Law therefore wishes or tends to

1 Plato, Minos, 313 B-C.

I pass over here an analo
by Sokrates in his next q ON ;--88 νόμῳ νομίζεται;
ὄψις to τὰ ὁρώμενα, 80 νόμος to τὰ νομι-
ζομενα͵ &e. τ.

3 Plato, Minos, 314 A.

tion

by Sokrates
—Law is the
good opinion
of the city—

Sug,

ἐπειδὴ νόμῳ

started τὰ νομιζόμενα νομίζεται, τίνι ὄντι τῷ

3 Plato, Minos. 314 B-C-D.

78 HIPPARCHUS—MINOS. CuHap. XIV.

But good —_ pe, the finding out of reality.! Comp.—But, Sokrates,
true opin. _if law is the finding out of reality—if we have therein
finding ou already found out realities—how comes it that all
of ay. communities of men do not use the same laws re-
fore wishes specting the same matters? Sokr.—The law does not

Seine the less wish or tend to find out realities; but it is
ont of rose unable to do so. That is, if the fact be true as you
Hity, th not state—that we change our laws, and do not all of us
use the same. Oomp.—Surely, the fact as a fact is
doing so. obvious enough?

(The Companion here enumerates some remarkable local rites,
Objection venerable in one place, abhorrent in another, such as
Compaction” | the human sacrifices at Carthage, &c., thus lengthen-
—That ing his answer much beyond what it had been before.
peta. Sokrates then continues) :—
cordance of Sokr.—Perhaps you are right, and these matters
different § have escaped me. But if you and I go on making
Peecifies ° long speeches each for ourselves, we shall never come
several to an agreement. If we are to carry on our research
such dis- together, we must do so by question and answer.
Question me, if you prefer:—if not, answer me.
Comp.—I am quite ready, Sokrates, to answer what-
reproves his ever you ask.
pes νὰ Sokr.—Well, then! do you think that just things
bim to con, are just, and that unjust things are unjust? Comp.—
to question I think they are. Sokr.—Do not all men in all
or answer. communities, among the Persians as well as here,
Farther = now as well as formerly, think so too? Comp.—
by Sokrates Unquestionably they do. Sokr—Are not things
henty ond which weigh more, accounted heavier; and things
tet ee which weigh less, accounted lighter, here, at Car-
honourable thage, and everywhere else?? Comp.—Certainly.
and dis te, Sokr—It seems, then, that honourable things are
&e.,ares0 accounted honourable everywhere, and dishonourable
ἐληθὴς Sota τοῦ Sores ΩΝ gee οἾ Iodbes “τὰ πον gamers

ὁ νόμος ἄρα βούλεται τοῦ ὄντος εἶναι τοὐναντίον
ἐξεύρεσις; The νον ox νομίζεται deserves atten-

tion here, Θ same word as has
3 Plato, Minos, 315 A-B. ployed’ in regard to law, and
3 Plato. Minos, 816 A. Πότερον δὲ derived

Crap. XIV. LAWFUL INCLUDED IN REAL.

things dishonourable? not the reverse. Comp.—Yes,
it isso. Sokr.—Then, speaking universally, existent
things or realities (not non-existents) are accounted
existent and real, among us as well as among all other
men? Comp.—I think they are. Sokr.—Whoever
therefore fails in attaining the real fails in attaining
the lawful. Comp.—As you now put it, Sokrates, it
would seem that the same things are accounted lawful
both by us at all times, and by all the rest of man-

a
the lawful.

kind besides. But when I reflect that we are perpetually
changing our laws, I cannot persuade myself of what you affirm.
Sokr.—Perhaps you do not reflect that pieces on the draught-

board, when: their position is changed, still remain
the same. You know medical treatises: you know
that physicians are the really knowing about matters
of health: and that they agree with each other in
writing about them. Comp.—Yes—I know that.
Sokr.—The case is the same whether they be Greeks
or not Greeks: Those who know, must of necessity
hold the same opinion with each other, on matters

which they know : always and everywhere. Comp.— So also

Yes—always and everywhere. Sokr.— Physicians
write respecting matters of health what they account
to be true, and these writings of theirs are the
medical laws? Comp.—Certainly they are. Sokr.—
The like is true respecting the laws of farming—the
laws ‘of gardening—the laws of cookery. All these
are the writings of persons, knowing in each of the
respective pursuits? Comp.—Yes.*
manner, what are the laws respecting the government
of a city? Are they not the writings of those who
know how to govern—kings, statesmen, and men of
superior excellence? Comp.—Truly so. Sokr.—
Knowing men like these will not write differently
from each other about the same things, nor change

1 Plat. Min. 816 B. οὐκοῦν, ὡς κατὰ τοῖς ἄλλοις ἅπασιν. Comp.

πάντων εἰπεῖν, τὰ ὄντα νομίζεται « Sokr. “Ὃς ἂν

ov τὰ μὴ ὄντα, cai παρ' ἡμῖν καὶ π' νομίμου ave
to, Minos Bebe re

manner.
Sokr.—In like

wise men
who know
how to rule.

what they

"Epocye δοκεῖ.

ἂν dpa rou ὄντος ἁμαρτάνῃ,

80 HIPPARCHUS—MINOS. CuHap. XIV.

have once written. If, then, we see some doing this, are we to
declare them knowing or ignorant? Comp.—Ignorant—un-
doubtedly.

Sokr.—Whatever is right, therefore, we may pronounce to be
That which lawful; in medicine, gardening, or cookery : what-
is right is ever is not right, not to be lawful but lawless. And
law, the the like in treatises respecting just and unjust, pre-
only wy’ ~—sscribing how the city is to be administered: That
which is right, is the regal law—that which is not
right, is not Tight, is not so, but only seems to be law in the eyes
Wty ecans Οἱ the ignorant—being in truth lawless. Comp.—
to belaw in Yes. Sokr.—We were correct therefore in declaring

the ores = Law to be the finding out of reality. Comp—It
rant. appears so.! Sokr.—It is the skilful husbandman

who gives right laws on the sowing of land: the skilful musician
on the touching of instruments: the skilful trainer, respecting
exercise of the body: the skilful king or governor, respecting the
minds of the citizens. Comp.—Yes—it is.*

Sokr.—Can you tell me which of the ancient kings kas the
Minos,King glory of having been a good lawgiver, so that his laws
of Krete— still remain in force as divine institutions? Comp.—
were divine I cannot tell. Sokr.—But can you not say which
end excel- among the Greeks have the most ancient laws?
have re- = Comp.—Perhaps you mean the Lacedemonians and
unchanged Lykurgus? Sokr.—Why, the Lacedzmonian laws are
immemo. hardly more than three hundred years old: besides,
rial. whence is it that the best of them come? Comp.—
From Krete, they say. Sokr.—Then it is the Kretans who have
the most ancient laws in Greece? Comp.—Yes. Sokr.—Do you
know those good kings of Krete, from whom these laws are
derived—Minos and Rhadamanthus, sons of Zeus and Europa?
Oomp.—Rhadamanthus certainly is said to have been a just man,
Sokrates; but Minos quite the reverse—savage, ill-tempered,
unjust. Sokr.—What you affirm, my friend, is a fiction of the
Attic tragedians. It is not stated either by Homer or Hesiod ;
who are far more worthy of credit than all the tragedians put

“1 Plato, Minos, 817 C. τὸ μὲν ὀρθὸν νόμος ἐστὶ βασιλικός " τὸ δὲ μὴ ὀρθόν οὔ,
ὃ δοκεῖ νόμος εἶναι τοῖς οὐκ εἰδόσιν" ἔστι γὰρ ἄνομον.
2 Plato, Minos, 818 Δ.

CHARACTER OF MINOS. 81

CuHap. XIV.

together. Comp.—What is 10 that Homer and Hesiod say about
Minos?!

Sokrates replies by citing, and commenting upon, the state-
ments of Homer and Hesiod respecting Minos, as the
cherished son, companion, and pupil, of Zeus ; who
bestowed upon him an admirable training, teaching 1
him wisdom and justice, and thus rendering him con-
_ summate as a lawgiver and ruler of men. It was

‘through these laws, divine as emanating from the
teaching of Zeus, that Krete (and Sparta as the imi-
tator of Krete) had been for so long a period happy
and virtuous. ΑΒ ruler of Krete, Minos had made
war upon Athens, and compelled the Athenians to
pay tribute. Hence he had become odious to the
Athenians, and especially odious to the tragic poets who were
the great teachers and charmers of the crowd. These poets, whom
every one ought to be cautious of offending, had calumniated

uestion

Minos as the old enemy of Athens. ?

But that these tales are mere calumny (continues Sokrates),

and that Minos was truly a good lawgiver, and a good

shepherd (νομεὺς ἀγαθός) of his people—we have proof was really
through the fact, that his laws still remain unchanged : ad thet ne
which shows that he has really found. out truth and bas found
reality respecting the administration of a city.3 and reality
Comp.—Your view seems plausible, Sokrates. Sokr.— thewinnes

If I am right, then, you think that the Kretans have th

more ancient laws than any other Greeks? and that
Minos and Rhadamanthus are the best of all ancient
lawgivers, rulers, and shepherds of mankind? Comp.
—TI think they are.

Sokr.—Now take the case of the good lawgiver and
good shepherd for the body—If we were asked, what
it is that he prescribes for the body, so as to render it
better? we should answer, at once, briefly, and well,
by saying—food and labour: the former to sustain
the body, the latter to exercise and consolidate it.

1 Plato, Minos, 318 E.
2 Plato, Minos, 319-320.
3 Plato, Minos, 321 B.

2—6

the fact that
his laws

ve re-
mained 80
ong un-
altered.

The’ ques-
tion is made
more deter-
minate.
What is it
that the
good law-

γιστον σημεῖον, ὅτι ἀκίνητοι αὑτοῦ οἱ
νόμοι εἰσίν, ἅτε τοῦ ὄντος περὶ πόλεως
τοῦτο μέ- οἰκήσεως ἐξενρόντος εὖ τὴν ἀλήθειαν.

82 HIPPARCHUS—MINOS. Cap. XIV.

giver pre- Comp.—Quite correct. Sokr.—And if after that we

measures, Were asked, What are those things which the good

healthof the lawgiver prescribes for the mind to make it better,

mind 95 what should we say, 80 as to avoid discrediting our-
fan measures selves? Comp.—I really cannot tell. Sokr.—But
ou an

exercise for Surely it is discreditable enough both for your mind
the body? and mine—to confess, that we do not know upon what
cannot tell. it is that good and evil for our minds depends, while
Close. we can define upon what it is that the good or evil of

our bodies depends ?!

I have put together the two dialogues Hipparchus and Minos,
The Hippar- Partly because of the analogy which really exists be-
chus an tween them, partly because that analogy is much in-
analogous sisted on by Boeckh, Schleiermacher, Stallbaum, and
other,and Other recent critics; who not only strike them both
bothofthem ont of the list of Platonic works, but speak of them
works of | with contempt as compositions. On the first point, I
‘un. dissent from them altogether : on the second, I agree
finished. © with them thus far—that I consider the two dialogues
. inferior works of Plato :—much inferior to his greatest and best
compositions,—certainly displaying both less genius and less
careful elaboration—probably among his early performances—
perhaps even unfinished projects, destined for a farther elabora-
tion, which they never received, and not published until after his
decease. Yet in Hipparchus as well as in Minos, the subjects
debated are important as regards ethical theory. Several ques-
tions are raised and partially canvassed : no conclusion is finally
attained. These characteristics they have in common with
several of the best Platonic dialogues.

In Hipparchus, the: question put by Sokrates is, about the
Hipparchus ‘efinition of ὁ φιλοκερδὴς (the lover of gain), and of

uble κέρδος itself—gain. The first of these two words
Poors (like many in Greek as well as in English) is used in
ἃ κέρδος. two senses. In its plain, etymological sense, it means
an attribute belonging to all men: all men love gain, hate loss.

1 Plato, Minos, 321 C-D.

Cuap. XIV. NO TENABLE DEFINITION. 83

But since this is predicable of all, there is seldom any necessity
for predicating it of any one man or knot of men in particular.
Accordingly, when you employ the epithet as a predicate of A or
B, what you generally mean is, to assert something more than its
strict etymological meaning : to declare that he has the attribute
in unusual measure ; or that he has shown himself; on various
occasions, wanting in other attributes, which on those occasions
ought, in your judgment, to have countervailed it. The epithet
thus comes to connote a sentiment of blame or reproach, in the
mind of the speaker. 1

The Companion or Collocutor, being called upon by Sokrates
to explain τὸ φιλοκερδὲς, defines it in this last sense, State of
as conveying or connoting a reproach. He gives three mind of the

different explanations of it (always in this sense), Enowiedge,
loosely worded, each of which Sokrates shows to be quiry in ™
untenable. A variety of parallel cases are compared, {cable deft-
and the question is put (so constantly recurring ‘in nition found.
Plato’s writings), what is the state of the agent’s mind as to know-
ledge? The cross-examination makes out, that if the agent be
supposed to know,—then there is no man corresponding to the
definition of a φιλοκερδής : if the agent be supposed not to know
—then, on the contrary, every man will come under the defini-
tion. The Companion is persuaded that there is such a thing
as “love of gain” in the blamable sense. Yet he cannot find any
tenable definition, to discriminate it from “love of gain” in the
ordinary or innocent sense.

The same question comes back in another form, after Sokrates
has given the liberty of retractation. The Collocutor 4 qmitting
maintains that there is bad gain, as well as good gain. thatthereis
But what is that common, generic, quality, designated wellas good
by the word gain, apart from these two distinctive Sim, waat

15 the mean-

epithets? He cannot find it out or describe it. He ing 5 of the |
gives two definitions, each of which is torn up by None is

Sokrates. To deserve the name of gain, that which a found.
man acquires must be good ; and it must surpass, in value as well

1 Aristotle adverts to this class of a. 9). Οὐ πᾶσα δ᾽ ἐπιδέχεται πρᾶξις
ethical epithets, connoting both an οὐδὲ wav πάθος, τὴν μεκότητα τάξις,
attribute in the person designated and γὰρ εὐθὺς ὠνόμασται συνειλημμένα μετὰ
an unfavourable sentiment in the τῆς φαυλότητος, οἷον, ὥς.
speaker (Ethic. Nikom. ii. 6, p. 1107

84 HIPPARCHUS—MINOS. Cuap. XIV.

as in quantity, the loss or outlay which he incurs in order-to ac-
quire it. But when thus understood, all gains are good. There
is no meaning in the distinction between good and bad gains: all
men are lovers of gain.

With this confusion, the dialogue closes. The Sokratic notion
Purpose of Of good, as what every one loves—evil as what every
seta one hates—also of evil-doing, as performed by every
To lay bare evil-doer only through ignorance or mistake—is
sion, and to brought out and applied to test the ethical phraseo- -
force the logy of a common-place respondent. - But it only
respondent serves to lay bare a state of confusion and perplexity,
for clearing Without clearing up any thing. Herein, so far as
it up. I can see, lies Plato’s purpose in the dialogue. The
respondent is made aware of the confusion, which he did not
know before ; and this, in Plato’s view, is a progress). The re-
spondent cannot avoid giving contradictory answers, under an
acute cross-examination: but he does not adopt any new belief.
He says to Sokrates at the close—“ The debate has constrained
rather than persuaded me”.' This is a simple but instructive
declaration of the force put by Sokrates upon his collocutors ;
and of the reactionary effort likely to be provoked in their
minds, with a view to extricate themselves from a painful sense
of contradiction. If such effort be provoked, Plato’s purpose
is attained.

One peculiarity there is, analogous to what we have already
seen in the Hippias Major. It is not merely the Collocutor who
charges Sokrates, but also Sokrates who accuses the Collocutor—
each charging the other with attempts to deceive a friend? This
seems intended by Plato to create an occasion for introducing
what he had to say about Hipparchus—apropos of the motto on
the Hipparchean Hermes—py φίλον ἐξαπάτα.

The modern critics, who proclaim the Hipparchus not to be
Historical the work of Plato, allege as one of the proofs of
narrative —_spuriousness, the occurrence of this long narrative

ments given and comment upon the historical Hipparchus and his
logue re- behaviour ; which narrative (the critics maintain)
ipparchus Plato would never have introduced, seeing that it

1 Plato, Hipparch. 282 Β. ἠνάγκακε γὰρ (ὁ λόγος) μᾶλλον ἐμέ ye ἣ πέπεικεν.
pps 2 Plato, Hippareh. 225 E, 228 A. cote

Cuap. XIV. HIPPARCHUS IS NOT SPURIOCS. 85

contributes nothing to the settlement of the question —afford no
debated. But to this we may reply, first, That there ἄπονα ον
are other dialogues! (not to mention the Minos) in tobe spa
which Plato introduces recitals of considerable length, rious.
historical or quasi-historical recitals ; bearing remotely, or hardly
bearing at all, upon the precise question under discussion ; next,
—That even if no such analogies could be cited, and if the case
stood single, no modern critic could fairly pretend to be so
thoroughly acquainted with Plato’s views and the surrounding
circumstances, as to put a limit on the means which Plato might
choose to take, for rendering his dialogues acceptable and
interesting. Plato’s political views made him disinclined to
popular government generally, and to the democracy of Athens
in particular. Conformably with such sentiment, he is disposed
to surround the rule of the Peisistratide with an ethical and
philosophical colouring: to depict Hipparchus as a wise man
busied in instructing and elevating the citizens ; and to discredit
the renown of Harmodius and Aristogeiton, by affirming them
to have been envious of Hipparchus, as a philosopher who sur-
passed themselves by his own mental worth. All this lay
perfectly in the vein of Plato’s sentiment; and we may say the
same about the narrative in the Minos, respecting the divine
parentage and teaching of Minos, giving rise to his superhuman
efficacy as a lawgiver and ruler. It is surely very conceivable,
that -Plato, as a composer of ethical dialogues or dramas, might
think that such recitals lent a charm or interest to some of them.
Moreover, something like variety, or distinctive features as be-
tween one dialogue and another, was a point of no inconsiderable
moment. I am of opinion that Plato did so conceive these narra-
tives. But at any rate, what I here contend is, that no modern
critics have a right to assume as certain that he did not.

1 See Alkibiad. ii. Bp. if2. 142-149-150 ; ars is struck pont of the text con-
Alkibiad. 1. Plus -1 Protagoras, ecturally. The e may be per-
342-344; Po 268 D., σχεδὸν fectly well construed, eaving μ
παιδιὰν ᾿δγκερασαμένονς, and the two or in the text: we must undoubte 7
three which follow. suppose the author to have made an

F. olf, and various critics after assertion historically erroneous: but
him, contend that the genuineness of this is nowise impossible in the case

pparchus was doubted in anti- of Alian. If you construe the
auity, on the authori of Zlian, V.H. as it stands, without such conjectural
I main that this is alteration, it does not justify Wolf's
not the meaning of the e, unless inference.
upon the supposition that the word

86 HIPPARCHUS—MINOS. Cuap. XIV.

I now come to the Minos. The subject of this dialogue is,
Minos— _ the explanation or definition of Law. Sokrates eays
Wisst is the to his Companion or Collocutor,—Tell me what is
chi racteris. the generic constituent of Law: All Laws are alike
connoted by quatenus Law. Take no note of the difference be-
tno ποσὰ tween one law and another, but explain to me what
law? characteristic property it is, which is common to all
Law, and is implied in or connoted by the name Law.

This question is logically the same as that which Sokrates asks
in the Hipparchus with reference to κέρδος or gain.

That the definition of Νόμος or Law was discussed by Sokrates,
This ques. We know, not only from the general description of his
tion was dis- debates given in Xenophon, but also from the in-
the histei. teresting description (in that author) of the conversa-
calSokrates, tion between the youthful Alkibiades and Perikles.?
bilia of The interrogations employed by Alkibiades on that
occasion are Sokratic, and must have been derived,
directly or indirectly, from Sokrates. They are partially analo-
gous to the questions of Sokrates in the dialogue Minos, and they
end by driving Perikles into a confusion, left unexplained, be-
tween Law and Lawlessness.

Definitions of Νόμος are-here given by the Companion, who

undergoes a cross-examination upon them. First, he
ea cup. says, that Νόμος = τὰ νομιζόμενα. But this is re-
ΤΉΝ and jected by Sokrates, who intimates that Law is not
Law in- the aggregate of laws enacted or of customs held
emotion of binding: but that which lies behind these laws and
itemeaning, customs, imparting to them their binding force? We
goodness, are to enquire what this is. The Companion declares
usefulness, that it is the public decree of the city: political or
decrees are gocial opinion. But this again Sokrates contests:
' - putting questions to show that Law includes, as a
portion of its meaning, justice, goodness, beauty, and preserva-
tion of the city with its possessions ; while lawlessness includes
injustice, evil, ugliness, and destruction. There can be no such
hing as bad or wicked law.* But among decrees of the city,

1 Xen. Mem. i. 1, 16; arty νομίζεται ee
2 Plato, Minos, 314 A. πειδὴ rope ary Plato, Minos, 314. E. καὶ μὴν νόμος
τὰ νομιζόμενα νομίζεται, τίνι ὄντι τῷ γε οὐκ ἦν πονηρός.

Crap. XIV. DEFINITIONS OF LAW. 87

some are bad, some are good. Therefore to define Law as a de-
cree of the city, thus generally, is incorrect. It is only the good
decree, not the bad decree, which is Law. Now the good decree
or opinion, is the true opinion: that is, it is the finding out of
reality. Law therefore wishes or aims to be the finding out of
reality: and if there are differences between different nations,
this is because the power to find out does not always accompany
the wish to find out.

As to the assertion—that Law is one thing here, another
thing there, one thing at one time, another thing at
another—Sokrates contests it. Just things are just affirms that
(he says) everywhere and at all times; unjust things @¥isevery-
are unjust also. Heavy things are heavy, light same—Itis
things light, at one time, as well as at another. So judgment
also honourable things are everywhere honourable, 22¢©™

mand of th
base things everywhere base. In general phrase, Wise man, “
existent things are everywhere existent,! non-existent subject to
things are not existent. Whoever therefore fails to Whichit. |
attain ‘the existent and real, fails to attain the lawful trath and

and just. It is only the man of art and knowledge, feand out

in this or that department, who attains the existent, thee
the real, the right, true, lawful, just. Thus the autho-
ritative rescripts or laws in matters of medicine, are those laid
down by practitioners who know that subject, all of whom agree
in what they lay down: the laws of cookery, the laws of agri-
culture and of gardening—are rescripts delivered by artists who
know respectively each of those subjects. So also about Just and
Unjust, about the political and social arrangements of the city—
the authoritative rescripts or laws are, those laid down by the
artists or men of knowledge in that department, all of whom
agree in laying down the same: that is, all the men of art called
kings or lawgivers. It is only the right, the true, the real—that
which these artists attain—which is properly a law and is en-
titled to be so called. That which is not right is not a law,—
ought not to be so called—and is only supposed to be a law by
the error of ignorant men.’

1M. Boeckh remarks justly in his emotion) ‘‘legitimi omnibus eandem
note on this passage—“‘neque enim esse. omnia scriptor hic con-
fllud demonstratum est, eadem om- fundit.”

nibus tima esse—sed tantum,
mee nt Gather the sentiment or 3 Plato, Minos, 317 Ὁ.

88 HIPPARCHUS—MINOS. Cuap. XIV.

That the reasoning of Sokrates.in this dialogue is confused

R and unsound (as M. Boeckh and other critics have
of Sokrates remarked), I.perfectly agree. But it is not the less
inthe Minos completely Platonic ; resting upon views and doc-
but Pla- — trines much cherished and often reproduced by Plato.
True, The dialogue Minos presents, in a rude and awkward

and Heal, manner, without explanation or amplification, that
the mind of worship of the Abstract and the Ideal, which Plato,
Pinto ft . in other and longer dialogues, seeks to diversify as
iodges noth- well as to elaborate. The definitions of Law here
Law, except combated and given by Sokrates, illustrate this. The
we? ~— good, the true, the right, the beautiful, the real—all
oughtto — coalesce in the mind of Plato. There is nothing (in
his view) real, except The Good, The Just, ἄς. (τὸ
αὐτο-ἀγαθὸν ; avro-dixatcovp—Absolute Goodness and Justice) : par-
ticular good and just things have no reality, they are no more
good and just than bad and unjust—they are one or the other,
according to circumstances—they are ever variable, floating
midway between the real and unreal.’ The real alone is know-
able, correlating with knowledge or with the knowing Intel-
ligence Νοῦς. As Sokrates distinguishes elsewhere τὸ δίκαιον or
᾿αὐτο-δίκαιον from ra δίκαια---80 here he distinguishes (νόμος from
τὰ νομιζόμενα) Law, from the assemblage of actual commands or
customs received as laws among mankind. These latter are
variable according to time and place ; but Law is always one and
the same. Plato will acknowledge nothing to be Law, except
that which (he thinks) ought to be Law: that which emanates
from a lawgiver of consummate knowledge, who aims at the
accomplishment of the good and the real, and knows how to dis-
cover and realise that end. So far as “the decree of the city”
coincides with what would have been enacted by this lawgiver
(2. 6. so far as it is good and right), Sokrates admits it as a valid
explanation of Law; but no farther. He considers the phrase
bad law to express a logical impossibility, involving a contradic-
tion in adjecto.2 What others call a bad law, he regards as being

1 See the remarkable ein the bear by the Platonic Sokrates against
fifth book of the Bepub Cc, pp. 479-480; Hi pias Raed the Hippias jor, 284-
com vii. 538 he laws are not really profit-

lato, Minos, $14 D. able, which is {the only p
The same argument is brought to for which they were esta plished. they

CuaP. XIV. LAW ACTUAL—LAW IDEAL 89

no real law, but only a fallacious image, mistaken for such by
the ignorant. He does not consider such ignorant persons as
qualified to judge: he recognises only the judgment of the
knowing one or: few, among whom he affirms that there can be
no difference of opinion. Every one admits just things to be
just,—unjust things to be unjust,—heavy things to be heavy,—
the existent and the real, to be the existent and the real. If then
the lawgiver in any of his laws fails to attain this reality, he fails
in the very purpose essential to the conception of law :’ +. 6. his
pretended law is no law at all.

. By Law, then, Plato means—not the assemblage of. actual
positive rules, nor any general property common to pigto wor.
and characteristic of them, nor the free determination ships the
of an assembled Demos as distinguished from the own mind—
mandates of a despot—but the Type of Law as it the work of
ought to be, and as it would be, if prescribed by a constructive
perfectly wise ruler, aiming at good and knowing the Wise
how to realise it. This, which is the ideal of hisown ™#2
mind, Plato worships and reasons upon as if it were the only
reality ; as Law by nature, or natural Law, distinguished from
actual positive laws: which last have either been set by some
ill-qualified historical ruler, or have grown up _insensibly.
Knowledge, art, philosophy, systematic and constructive, applied
by some one or few exalted individuals, is (in his view) the only
cause capable of producing that typical result which is true, good,
real, permanent, and worthy of the generic name.

_In the Minos, this general Platonic view is applied to Law:
in the Politikus, to government and social adminis- pig. ont
tration: in the Kratylus, to naming or language. 4 plications
In the Politikus, we find the received classification ral Platonic
of governments (monarchy, aristocracy, and demo- Yew, in the
cracy) discarded as improper; and the assertion tikus, Kra-
advanced, That there is only one government right, Natural
true, genuine, really existing—government by the Zectitude
uncontrolled authority and ‘superintendence of the vernment,
man of exalted intelligence: he who is master in the

are re ass laws at all. The Spartans tinent enough ; but he is overborne.
μοι. Some of the answers 1 Plato to, Minos, 316 6 B. Ὃς ἄν dpa τοῦ
assigned ᾧ to > Hippias (284 D) are per- ὄντος ἁμαρτάνῃ, τοῦ νομίμον ἁμαρτάνει.

90 . HIPPARCHUS—MINOS. CuHap. XIV.

art of governing, whether such man do in fact hold power any-
where or not. All other governments are degenerate substi-
tutes for this type, some receding from it less, some more.!
Again, in the Kratylus, where names and name-giving are ἢ
discussed, Sokrates? maintains that things can only be named
according to their true and real nature—that there is, belonging
to each thing, one special and appropriate Name-Form, discerne
ible only by the sagacity of the intelligent Lawgiver: who alone
is competent to bestow upon each thing its right, true, genuine,
real name, possessing rectitude by nature (ὀρθότης φύσει). This
Name-Form (according to Sokrates) is the same in all
in so far as they are constructed by different intelligent Law-
givers, although the letters and syllables in which they may
clothe the Form are very different.‘ If names be not thus appor-
tioned by the systematic purpose of an intelligent Lawgiver, but
raised up by insensible and unsyatematic growth—they will be
unworthy substitutes for the genuine type, though they are the .
best which actual societies possess ; according to the opinion
announced by Kratylus in that same dialogue, they will not be
names at all.5 |

The Kretan Minos (we here find it affirmed), son, companion,
Eulogy on and pupil of Zeus, has learnt to establish laws of this
Minos, 88 divine type or natural rectitude: the proof of which
tablished is, that the ancient Kretan laws have for imme-

1 Plato, Politikus, 293 C-E. ταύτην 2 Plato, Kratylus, 387 D.
ὀρθὴν διαφερόντως εἶναι καὶ μόνην πο- 3 Plato, Kratyl. 888 A-E.

λιτείαν, ἐν ἢ τις ἂν εὕρισκοι τοὺς

ἄρχοντας ἀληθῶς ἐπιστήμονας καὶ οὐ 4 Plato, Kratyl. 889 E, 890 A, 482 E.

δοκοῦντας μόνον ἢ . iy Kai κατὰ τοὺς Οὐκοῦν οὕτως ἀξιώσεις, καὶ τὸν νομοθέτην ᾿
τοιούτους ὅρους ἡ μόνην Be ζλλας πο- τόν τε ἐνθάδε καὶ τὸν ἐν τοῖς βαρβάροις,
λιτείαν εἶναι ῥητέο ὅσας ἕως ἂν τὸ τοῦ ὀνόματος εἶδος ἀποδιδῷ

λέγομεν οὐ yragias ov δ᾽ ὄντως τὸ προσῆκον ἑκάστῳ ἐν ὁποιαισοῦν συλ-
ov σας. λεκτέον, ἀλλὰ μεμιμημένας λαβαῖς, οὐδὲν εἴρω νομοθέτην εἶναι τὸν

ταύτην, ἃς μὲν εὑνόμους λέγομεν, | ἐπὶ ἐνθάδε ἣ τὸν νοῦν ἄλλοθε;
τὰ καλλίω, τὰς δὲ ἄλλας ἐπὶ τὰ αἰσχίονα pare this with the “Minos, 815 E, 816 D,
με where Sokrates es, hypo-

ῆσθαι. evades, by an

e historical (Xenophontic) So- thesis very similar, the objection made
krates asserts this same position in by the collocutor, that the laws in
Xenophon’ 5 Memorabilia 10). one country are very different from
‘*Sokrates said that Kings ond Huiers those in another—icws γὰρ οὐκ ἐννοεῖς
were those who knew how tocommand, ταῦτα μεταπεττενόμενα ὅτι ταὐτά ἐστιν.
not those who held the sceptre or were 5 Plato, Kratyl. 480 A, 482 A, 483 Ὁ,

uired power "he. 435

ἡ The Kings o Sparta and Macedonia veri a says thet ἢ. mame badly
> no name a as

Dapet ol epricant ot Phone arbors (rate se inthe Minos that ἃς bed

cot real rulers at all. law is no. wat all

Cuap. XIV. NATURAL RECTITUDE OF LAW. 91

morial ages remained, and still do remain,’ unchanged. laws ope
But when Sokrates tries to determine, Wherein con- or natural
sists this Law-Type? What is it that the wise Law- "ectitude.
giver prescribes for the minds of the citizens—as the wise gym-
nastic trainer prescribes proper measure of nourishment and exer-
cise for their bodies ?—the question is left unanswered. Sokrates
confesses with shame that he cannot answer it: and the dialogue
ends in a blank. The reader—according to Plato’s manner—is
to be piqued and shamed into the effort of meditating the ques-
tion for himself.

An attempt to answer this question will be found in Plato’s
Treatise De Legibus—in the projected Kretan colony, he ainos
of which he there sketches the fundamental laws. baby Ariste.
Aristophanes of Byzantium very naturally placed this phanes at_
treatise as sequel to the Minos ; second in the Trilogy irst long
of which the Minos was first. * with the

Whoever has followed the abstract of the Minos, ;
which I have just given, will remark the different #7?" ,
explanations of the word Law—both those which are word Law—
disallowed, and that which is preferred, though left in its mean-
incomplete, by Sokrates. On this same subject, there ing.
are in many writers, modern as well as ancient, two distinct
modes of confusion traceable—pointed out by eminent recent
jurists, such as Mr. Bentham, Mr. Austin, and Mr. Maine. 1.
Between Law as it is, and Law as it ought to be. 2. Between
Laws Imperative, set by intelligent rulers, and enforced by penal
sanction—and Laws signifying uniformities of fact expressed in
general terms, such as the Law of Gravitation, Crystallisation,
&c.—We can hardly say that in the dialogue Minos, Plato falls
into the first of these two modes of confusion: for he expressly
says that he only recognises the Ideal of Law, or Law as it ought
to be (actual Laws everywhere being disallowed, except in so far
as they conform thereunto). But he does fall into the second,
when he identifies the Lawful with the Real or Existent. His
Ideal stands in place of generalisations of fact.

There is also much confusion, if we compare the Minos with

other dialogues: wherein Plato frequently talks of Laws as the

1 Plato, Minos, 319 B, 321 A. further remarks upon the genuineness
241 reserve for an Appendix some of Hipparchus and Minos.

92 HIPPARCHUS—MINOS. Cap. XIV.

laws and customs actually existing or imperative in any given
state—Athens, Sparta, or elsewhere (Νόμος Ξ- τὰ νομιζόμενα, ac-
cording to the first words in the Minos). For example, in the
harangue which he supposes to be addressed to Sokrates in the
Kriton, and which he invests with so impressive a character—
the Laws of Athens are introduced as speakers: but ‘according
to the principles laid down in the Minos, three-fourths of the
Laws of Athens could not be regarded as laws at all. If there-
fore we take Plato’s writings throughout, we shall not find that
he is constant to one uniform sense of the word Law, or that he
escapes the frequent confusion between Law as it actually exists
and Law as it ought to be.?

1 The first: explanation of Νόμος

however in form, is no
advanced by the Companion in reply
tris. α

law at all; and this might be well if
he adhered consistently to the same
phraseology, but he perpetually uses

Νόμος = τὰ νομιζόμεν
y with the mean-
laces

ing of Νόμος βασιλεὺς in Pindar and
Herodotus (see above, chap. viii.), who
is an imaginary ruler, occup a
iven region, and enforcing +
ὄμενα. It coincides also with the
recept Νόμῳ πόλεως, as prescribed by
the Pythian estess to applicants who
asked advice about the proper forms of
religious worship (Xen. Mem. i. 8, 1);
though this precept, when Cicero comes
to report it . fi. 16, 40), appears
div of ite plicity, and over-
clouded with the very confusion

touched upon in my text. Aristotle la

clear of the confusion
c. Nikom. i 1

does not kee
(compare E
b. 1

and v. 5, 1180, b. 24). I shall has

revert again to the distinction between

νόμος and φύσις, in touching on other
Platonic ogues. Cicero express]
declares . ii. δ, 11), conformably

to what is said by the Platonic So.
krates in'the Minos, that a bad law,

Leges to

Bentham gives an explanation
of Law or The Law, which coincides

with Νόμος = τὰ νομιζόμενα. He says
(Principles of Morals and tion,
vol. ii. ch. 17, τ 257, . 1823),
**Now Law, or e Law, taken in-

definitely, is an abstract and collective
term, which, when it means anything,
can mean neither more nor less than
the sum total of a number of individual
ws taken together ”.

Mr. Austin in his Lectures, ‘The
Province of Jurisprudence Determined,
explained more clearly and copi-
ousl any antecedent author, the
confused meanings of the word Law

y adverted to in my text. See especially

his first lecture and his fifth, pp. 88
seq. and 171 seq., 4th ed.

CHap. XIV. APPENDIX. 93

APPENDIX.

In continuing to recognise Hipparchus and Minos as Platonic works,
contrary to the opinion of many modern critics, I have to remind the
reader, not only that both are included in the Canon of Thrasyllus,
but that the Minos was expressly acknowledged by Aristophanes of
Byzantium, and included by him among the Trilogies: showing that
it existed then (220 B.c.) in the Alexandrine Museum asa Platonic
work. The similarity between the Hipparchus and Minos is recognised
by all the Platonic critics, most of whom declare that both of them
are spurious. Schleiermacher affirms and vindicates this opinion in his
Einleitung and notes : but it will be convenient to take the arguments
advanced to prove the spuriousness, as they are set forth by M. Boeckh,
in his ‘‘Comment. in Platonis qui vulgo fertur Minoem ”: in which
treatise, though among his early works, the case is argued with all that
copious learning and critical ability, which usually adorn his many ad-
mirable contributions to the improvement of philology.

M. Boeckh not only rejects the pretensions of Hipparchus and Minos
to be considered as works of Plato, but advances an affirmative hypo-
thesis to show what they are. He considers these two dialogues, to-
gether with those De Justo, and De Virtute (two short dialogues in
the pseudo-Platonic list, not recognised by Thrasyllus) as among the
dialogues published by Simon ; an Athenian citizen and a shoemaker
by trade, in whose shop Sokrates is said to have held many of his con-
versations. Simon is reported to have made many notes of these con-
versations, and to have composed and published, from them, a volume
of thirty-three dialogues (Diog. L. ii. 122), among the titles of which
there are two—Tepi Φιλοκερδοῦς and Περὶ Νόμου. Simon was, of
course, contemporary with Plato ; but somewhat older in years. With
this part of M. Boeckh’s treatise, respecting the supposed authorship
of Simon, I have nothing to do. I only notice the arguments by which
he proposes to show that Hipparchus and Minos are not works of
Plato. .

In the first place, I notice that M. Boeckh explicitly recognises them

94 HIPPARCHUS—MINOS. Cuap. XIV.

as works of an author contemporary with Plato, not later than 8380 B.c.
(p. 46). Hereby many of the tests, whereby we usually detect spurious
works, become inapplicable.

In the second place, he admits that the dialogues are composed in
good Attic Greek, suitable to the Platonic age both in character and
manners—‘‘ At veteris esse et Attici scriptoris, probus sermo, antiqui
mores, totus denique character, spondeat,”’ p. 32.

The reasons urged by M. Boeckh to prove the spuriousness of the
Minos, are first, that it is unlike Plato—next, that it is too much like
Plato. ‘‘Dupliciter dialogus a, Platonis ingenio discrepat: partim
quod parum, partim quod nimium, similis ceteris ejusdem scriptis sit.
Parum similis est in rebus permultis. Nam cum Plato adhuc vivos ac
videntes aut nuper defunctos notosque homines, ut scenicus poeta
actores, moribus ingeniisque accurate descriptis, nominatim producat
in medium—in isto opusculo cum Socrate colloquens persona plané
incerta est ac nomine carens: quippe cum imperitus scriptor esset artis
illius colloquiis suis dulcissimas veneres illas inferendi, que ex pecu-
liaribus personarum moribus pingendis redundant, atque ἃ Platone
ut flores per amplos dialogorum hortos sunt disseminate ” (pp. 7-8) :
again, p. 9, it is complained that there is an ‘‘infinitus secundarius
collocutor” in the Hipparchus.

Now the sentence, just transcribed from M. Boeckh, shows that he
had in his mind as standard of comparison, a certain number of the
Platonic works, but that he did not take account of all of them.
The Platonic Protagoras begins with a dialogue between Sokrates and
an unknown, nameless person ; to whom Sokrates, after a page of con-
versation with him, recounts what has just passed between himself,
Protagoras, and others. Next, if we turn to the Sophistés and
Politikus, we find that in both of them, not simply the secundarius
collocutor, but even the principal speaker, is an unknown and name-
Jess person, described only as a Stranger from Elea, and never before
seen by Sokrates. Again, in the Leges, the principal speaker is only
an ᾿Αθηναῖος ξένος, without a name. In the face of such analogies, it
is unsafe to lay down a peremptory rule, that no dialogue can be the
work of Plato, which acknowledges as colWocutor an unnamed person.

Then again—when M. Boeckh complains that the Hipparchus and
Minos are destitute of those ‘‘ flores et dulcissimae Veneres” which
Plato is accustomed to spread through his dialogues—I ask, Where are
the ‘‘dulcissimz Veneres” in the Parmenidés, Sophistés, Politikus,
Leges, Timeus, Kritias? I find none. The presence of ‘ dulcissime .
Veneres ” is not a condition sine qué non, in every composition which

Crap. XIV. APPENDIX. 95

pretends to Plato as its author: nor can the absence of them be ad-
mitted as a reason for disallowing Hipparchus and Minos.

The analogy of the Sophistés and Politikus (besides Symposium,
Republic, and Leges) farther shows, that there is nothing wonderful
in finding the titles of Hipparchus and Minos derived from the subjects
(Περί Φιλοκερδοῦς and Περὶ Νόμου), not from the name of one of the
collocutors :—whether we suppose the titles to have been bestowed by
Plato himself, or by some subsequent editor (Boeckh, p. 10).

To illustrate his first ground of objection—Dissimilarity between
the Minos and the true Platonic writings—M. Boeckh enumerates (pp.
12-23) several passages of the dialogue which he considers unplatonic.
Moreover, he includes among them (p. 12) examples of confused and
illogical reasoning. I confess that to me this evidence is noway suffi-
cient to prove that Plato is not the author. That certain passages
may be picked out which are obscure, confused, inelegant—is certainly
no sufficient evidence. If I thought so, I should go along with Ast in
rejecting the Euthydémus, Menon, Lachés, Charmidés, Lysis, &c.,
against all which Ast argues as spurious, upon evidence of the same
kind. It is not too much to say, that against almost every one of the
dialogues, taken severally, a case of the same kind, more or less
plausible, might be made out. You might in each of them find
passages peculiar, careless, awkwardly expressed. The expression
τὴν ἀνθρωπείαν ἀγέλην τοῦ σώματος, which M. Boeckh insists upon
so much as improper, would probably have been considered as a mere
case of faulty text, if it had occurred in any other dialogue : and so it
may fairly be considered in the Minos.

Moreover as to faults of logic and consistency in the reasoning, most
certainly these cannot be held as proving the Minos not to be Plato’s
work. I would engage to produce, from most of his dialogues, defects
of reasoning quite as grave as any which the Minos exhibits. On the
principle assumed by M. Boeckh, every one who agreed with Panetius
in considering the elaborate proof given in the Phedon, of the immor-
tality of the soul, as illogical and delusive—would also agree with
Panetius in declaring that the Phedon was not the work of Plato. It
is one question, whether the reasoning in any dialogue be good or bad:
it is another question, whether the dialogue be written by Plato or not.
Unfortunately, the Platonic critics often treat the first question as if
it determined the second.

M. Boeckh himself considers that the evidence arising from dissimi-
larity (apon which I have just dwelt) is not the strongest part of his
case.. He relies more upon the evidence arising from too much simi-

96 HIPPARCHUS—MINOS. Cuap. XIV.

larity, as proving still more clearly the spuriousness of the Minos.
‘Jam pergamus ad alteram partem nostre argumentationis, eamgue
etiam firmiorem, de nimia similitudine Platonicorum aliquot lecoram,
408 imitationem doceat subesse. Nam de hoc quidem conveniet inter
omnes doctos et indoctos, Platonem se ipsum hand posse imitari : nisi
si quis dubitet de san& ejus mente” (p. 23). Again, p. 26, ‘Jam vero
in nostro colloquio Symposium, Politicum, Euthyphronem, Prota-
goram, Gorgiam, Cratylum, Philébum, dialogos expressos ac tantum
non compilatos reperies’’. And M. Boeckh goes on to specify various
passages of the Minos, which he considers to have been imitated, and
badly imitated, from one or other of these dialogues. .

I cannot agree with M. Boeckh in regarding this nimia similitudo
as the strongest part of his case. On the contrary, I consider it as the
weakest : because his own premisses (in my judgment) not only do not
prove his conclusion, but go far to prove the opposite. When we find
him insisting, in such strong language, upon the great analogy which
subsists between the Minos and seven of the incontestable Platonic
dialogues, this is surely a fair proof that its author is the same as their
author. To me it appears as conclusive as internal evidence ever can
be ; unless there be some disproof aliunde to overthrow it. But M.
Boeckh produces no such disproof. He converts these analogies into
testimony in his own favour, simply by bestowing upon them the
name imitatio,—stulta imitatio (p. 27). This word involves an hypo-
thesis, whereby the point to be proved is assumed—viz. : difference of
authorship. ‘‘ Plato cannot have imitated himself’ (M. Boeckh ob-
serves). I cannot admit such impossibility, even if you describe the
fact in that phrase : but if you say “ Plato in one dialogue thought
and wrote like Plato in another ᾿᾿--- τοὺ describe the same fact in a
different phrase, and it then appears not merely possible but natural
and probable. Those very real analogies, to which M. Boeckh points
in the word imitatio, are in my judgment cases of the Platonic thought
in one dialogue being like the Platonic thought in another. The
similitudo, between Minos and these other dialogues, can hardly be
called nimia, for M. Boeckh himself points out that it is accompanied
with much difference. It is a similitude, such as we should expect
between one Platonic dialogue and another : with this difference, that
whereas, in the Minos, Plato gives the same general views in a manner
more brief, crude, abrupt—in the other dialogues he works them out
with greater fulness of explanation and illustration, and some degree
of change not unimportant. That there should be this amount of
difference between one dialogue of Plato and another appears to me
perfectly natural. On the other hand—that there should have been a

Crap. XIV. APPENDIX. 97

contemporary falsarius (scriptor miser, insulsus, vilissimus, to use
phrases of M. Boeckh), who studied and pillaged the best dialogues of
Plato, for the purpose of putting together a short and perverted abbre-
viation of them—and who contrived to get his miserable abbreviation
recognised by the Byzantine Aristophanes among the genuine dia-
logues notwithstanding the existence of the Platonic school—this, I
think highly improbable.

I cannot therefore agree with M. Boeckh in thinking, that ‘‘ ubique
se prodens Platonis imitatio” (p. 31) is an irresistible proof of spu-
riousness: nor can 1 think that his hypothesis shows itself to advan-
tage, when he says, p. 10—“Ipse autem dialogus (Minos) quum post
Politicum compositus sit, quod quzdam in eo dicta rebus ibi expositis
manifesté nitantur, ut paullo post ostendemus—quis est qui artificio-
sissimum philosophum, postquam ibi (in Politico) accuratius de natura
legis egisset, de δὰ iterum putet negligenter egisse ?”—I do not think
it so impossible as it appears to M. Boeckh, that a philosopher, after
having written upon a given subject accuratius, should subsequently
write upon it negligenter. But if I granted this ever so fully, I should
still contend that there remains another alternative. The negligent
workmanship may have preceded the accurate: an alternative which
I think is probably the truth, and which has nothing to exclude it
except M. Boeckh’s pure hypothesis, that the Minos must have been
copied from the Politikus.

While I admit then that the Hipparchus and Minos are among the
inferior and earlier compositions of Plato, I still contend that there is
no ground for excluding them from the list of his works. Though the
Platonic critics of this century are for the most part of an adverse
opinion, I have with me the general authority of the critics anterior to
this century—from Aristophanes of Byzantium down to Bentley and
Ruhnken—see Boeckh, pp. 7-32,

Yxem defends the genuineness of the Hipparchus—(Ueber Platon’s
Kleitophon, p. 8. Berlin, 1846).

4...

98 THEAGES. CuHap. XV.

CHAPTER XV.
THEAGES.

THis is among the dialogues declared by Schleiermacher, Ast,
Theact Stallbaum, and various other modern critics, to be
hasbeen § spurious and unworthy of Plato: the production of
declared one who was not merely an imitator, but a bad and
by some silly imitator.' Socher on the other hand defends the
critics— dialogue against them, reckoning it as a juvenile pro-
unds —~_ duction of Plato. The arguments which are adduced
opinion not to prove its spuriousness appear to me altogether
’ insufficient. It has some features of dissimilarity

with that which we read in other dialogues—these the above-
mentioned critics call un-Platonic: it has other features of
similarity—these they call bad imitation by a falsarius: lastly, it
is inferior, as a performance, to the best of the Platonic dialogues.
But I am prepared to expect (and have even the authority of
Schleiermacher for expecting) that some dialogues will be
inferior to others. I also reckon with certainty, that between
two dialogues, both genuine, there will be points of similarity as
well as points of dissimilarity. Lastly, the critics find marks of
a bad, recent, un-Platonic style: but Dionysius of Halikarnassus
—a judge at least equally competent upon such a matter—found
no such marks. He expressly cites the dialogue as the work of

1Stallbaum, Proleg. pp. 220-225, Plato. Schleiermacher also admita
*‘ineptus tenebrio,” &. Schleier- (see the end of his alte συ

macher, Einlei ii. v. ifi. PP. the style in general hasa
247-2652. inlettang, part Leben und colouring, ough he oilers some

Schriften, A 06 ἐδ. particular phrases as un-Platonic.
Ast wi diff 3 Socher, Ueber Platon, pp. 92-102.

th respect (
Sls respect from tne thon, thoagh be M. Cobst also speaks of it as 8 work of
as & com Θ oves on » Ὁ. -
dace με Po be the work of Lugd. Bat. 1858). Νὰ P

CuHap. XV. QUESTIONS OF SOKRATES. 99

Plato,! and explains the peculiar phraseology assigned to Demo-
dokus by remarking, that the latter is presented as a person of
rural habits and occupations.

Demodokus, an elderly man (of rank and landed property),
and his youthful son Theagés, have come from their
Deme to Athens, and enter into conversation with
Sokrates : to whom the father explains, that Theagés
has contracted, from the conversation of youthful
companions, an extraordinary ardour for the acquisi-
tion of wisdom. The son has importuned his father
to put him under the tuition of one of the Sophists,
who profess to teach wisdom. The father, though
not unwilling to comply with the request, is .deterred
by the difficulty of finding a good teacher and
avoiding a bad one. He entreats the advice of
Sokrates, who invites the young man to explain what it is that
he wants, over and above the usual education of an Athenian
youth of good family (letters, the harp, wrestling, &c.), which he
has already gone through.?

Sokr.—You desire wisdom : but what kind of wisdom? That
by which men manage chariots? or govern horses? gokrates
or pilot ships? Theag.—No: that by which men are Tieegte in.
governed. Sokr.—But what men? those in a state of viting him
sickness—or those who are singing in a chorus—or what he
those who are under gymnastic training? Each of Ya".

1 Dionys. Hal. Ars Rhetor. p. 405,

logue. But unfortunately the error
Reiske. Compare Theagés, 121 D.

does not belong to the Theagés alone.

εἰς τὸ ἄστυ καταβαίνοντες.

In general, in discussions on the

genuineness of any of the Platonic

ialogues, I can do nothing but reply
to the arguments of those critics who
consider them spurious. But in the
case of the Theagés there is one argu-
ment which tends to mark Plato
positively as the author.

In the Theagés, p. 125, the senarius
σοφοὶ τύραννοι τῶν σοφῶν συνουσίᾳ is
cited as a verse of ξιυυγίρίαξεε. Now it
appears that this is an error of memory,
and that the verse really belongs to
Sophokles, ἐν Αἴαντι Aoxpy. If the
error had only appeared in this dia-
logue, Stallbaum would probably have
cited it as one more instance of stupidity
on the part of the ineptus tenebrio whom
he supposes to have written the dia-

It is found also in the Republic (viii.
568 B), the most unquestionable of all
the Platonic compositions. Accord-

_ingly, Schleiermacher tells us in his

note that the falsarius of the Theagés
has copied this error out of the above-
named passage of the Republic of
Plato (notes, p. 500

This last supposition of Schleier-
macher ap to me highly im-
probable. Since we know t the
mistake is one made by Plato himself.
surely we o rather to believe that
he made it in two distinct composi-
tions. In other words, the occurrence
of the same e in the
Republic and the Theagés affords
strong presumption that both are by
the same author— Plato.

2 eageés, 122.

100 THBAGES. CHap. XV.

these classes has its own governor, who bears a special title, and
belongs to a special art by itself—the medical, musical, gym-
nastic, ἄς. Theag.—No: I mean that wisdom by which we
govern, not these classes alone, but all the other residents in the
city along with them—professional as well as private—men as
well as women.!

Sokrates now proves to Theayés, that this function and power
Theagés de. Which he is desirous of obtaining, is, the function and
sires toac- power of a despot: and that no one can aid him in so
wisdom by ‘culpable a project. I might yearn (says Theagés)
for such despotic power over all: so probably would
freemen you and every other man. But it is not that to
owncon. Which I now aspire. I aspire to govern freemen,
with their own consent; as was done by Themis-
tokles, Perikles, Kimon, and other illustrious statesmen,? who
have been accomplished in the political art.

Sokr.—Well, if you wished to become accomplished in the art
of horsemanship, you would put yourself under able horsemen :
if in the art of darting the javelin, under able darters. By
parity of reasoning, since you seck to learn the art of statesman-
ship, you must frequent able statesmen.?

Theag.—No, Sokrates. I have heard of the language which

Incompe- you are in the habit of using to others. You pointed

best rte out to them that thesc eminent statesmen cannot

tical states- train their own sons to be at all better than curriers:

teachany Οὗ course therefore they cannot do me any good.

1 Plato, Theagés, 124 A-B. Schleier- classification as a process. In like
macher (Einleit. p. 250) censures the manner I maintain that prolixity in
prolixity of the inductive process in the λόγοι ἐπακτικοί is not to be held

dialogue, and the multitude of as proof of spurious authorship, any
examples here accumulated to prove a more than prolixity in the process of
general proposition obvious enough logical subdivision and classification.
without proof. Let us t this to I noticed the same objection in the
true; we cannot infer from it that the case of the First Alkibiadés.
dialogue is not the work of Plato. 2 Plato, Theagés, 126 A.

very similar arguments Socher 3 Plato, Theagés, 126 C.
endeavours to show that the Sophistés 4 Plato, Theages, 126D. Here again
and the Politikus are not works of Stallbaum (p. ) urges, among his

because in both these dialogues reasons for belie e dialogue to

logical division and differentiation is be spurious—How absurd to represent
accumulated with tiresome prolixity, the youthful Theagés as knowing what
and applied to most trivia] subjects. ments Sokrates had addressed to
But to himself (in Politikus, pp. others! But the youthful Theetétus is
285-286) explains why he does so, and also represented as having heard from
tells us that he wishes to familiarise others the cross-examinations made by
his readers with logical subdivisionand Sokrates (Theetét. 148 Ε)λ So like-

CuaP. XV. THE SOKRATIC DEMON.

101

Sokr.—But what can your father do for you better Thesste re-
than this, Theagés? What ground have you for quests that
complaining of him? He is prepared to place you Soe alt
under any one of the best. and most excellent men of teach him.
Athens, whichever of them vou prefer. Theag.—Why will not
you take me yourself, Sokrates? I look upon you as one of
these men, and I desire nothing better.!

Demodokus joins his entreaties with those of Theagés to pre-
vail upon Sokrates to undertake this function. But Sokrates in
reply says that he is less fit for it than Demodokus himself, who
has exercised high political duties, with the esteem of every one:
and that if practical statesmen are considered unfit, there are the
professional Sophists, Prodikus, Gorgias, Polus, who teach many
pupils, and earn not merely good pay, but also the admiration
and gratitude of every one—of the pupils as well as their senior
relatives.?

Sokr.—I know nothing of the fine things which these Sophists
teach: I wish I did know. I declare everywhere,

that I know nothing whatever except one small
matter—what belongs to love. In that, I surpass
every one else, past as well as present. Theag.—
Sokrates is only mocking us. I know youths (of my
own age and somewhat older), who were altogether
worthless and inferior to every one, before they went

to him; but who, after they had frequented his Th

society, became in a short time superior to all their
former rivals. The like will happen with me, if he
will only consent to receive me.‘

Sokr.—You do not know how this happens; I will
explain it to you. From my childhood, I have had a
peculiar superhuman something attached to me by
divine appointment: a voice, which, whenever it
occurs, warns me to abstain from that which I am

Sokrates
declares
that he is
not com-
tent to
h—that
he knows
nothing ex-
cept about
matters
of love.
8
maintains
that many
of his y
friends have
rofited
rgely by
the conver-
sation of
Sokrates.

Sokrates
explains
how this

wise the youthful sons of Lysimachus λέγω δήπου ἀεί, ὅτι ἐγὼ τυγχάνω, ὡς

és, 181 A); compare also Lysis,
211A.
1 Plato, Theagés, 127 A.
3 Plato, Theagés, 127 D-E, 128 A.
3 Plato, Theagés, 128 B. ἀλλὰ καὶ

τοῦτο μέντοι Td

ἔπος εἰπεῖν, οὐδὲν ἐπιστάμενος πλήν γε
σμικροῦ τινὸς μαθήματος, τῶν ἐρωτικῶν,
ἄθημα παρ᾽ ὁντινοῦν
ποιοῦμαι δεινὸς εἶναι, καὶ τῶν wpoyeyo-
νότων ἀνθρώπων καὶ τῶν νῦν.

4 Plato, Theagés, 128 C.

102 THEAGES. Cap. XV.

hassome- about to do, but never impels me! Moreover, when
happened— any one of my friends mentions to me what he is
He exper. about to do, if the voice shall then occur to me it is a
ence oi the warning for him to abstain. The examples of Char-
divine sign ides and Timarchus (here detailed by Sokrates)
prove what I say: and many persons will tell you how truly I
forewarned them of the ruin of the Athenian armament at
Syracuse.?_ My young friend Sannion is now absent, serving on
the expedition under Thrasyllus to Ionia: on his departure, the
divine sign manifested itself to me, and I am persuaded that
some grave calamity will befall him.

These facts I mention to you (Sokrates continues) because it is
The Demon that same divine power which exercises paramount
isfavour- - influence over my intercourse with companions.®
persons,ad- Towards many, it is positively adverse ; so that I
others. cannot even enter into companionship with them.
Upon this Towards others, it does not forbid, yet neither does
stanceit | it co-operate: so that they derive no benefit from
me. There are others again in whose case it co-
companion operates ; these are the persons to whom you allude,
Fhe society who make rapid progress.‘ With some, such improve-
of Sokrates. ment is lasting : others, though they improve wonder-
has not fully while in my society, yet relapse into commonplace
thing from men when they leave me. Aristeides, for example
tes, (grandson of Aristeides the Just), was one of those who

roved made rapid progress while he was with me. But he
being near was forced to absent himself on military service ; and
to on returning, he found as my companion Thucy-
dides (son of Melesias), who however had quarrelled with me for
some debate of the day before. I understand (said Aristeides to
me) that Thucydides has taken offence and gives himself airs; he
forgets what a poor creature he was, before he came to you.® I

1 Plato, Theagés, 128 D. ἔστι γάρ ἅπαν δύναται. πολλοῖς μὲν γὰρ ἐναν-
τι θείᾳ μοίρᾳ παρεπόμενον ἐμοὶ ἐκ παιδὸς τιοῦται, καὶ οὐκ ὅστι τούτοις ὠφεληθῆναι

voy δαιμόνιον" ἔστι δὲ τοῦτο mer ἐμοῦ δ διατρίβουσιν.

wry, ἢ ὅταν γένηται, ἀεί μοι σημαίνει, Theag. 129 EK. οἷς δ᾽ ἂν
ἂν μέλλω πράττειν, τούτον ἀποτροπήν, συλλάβηται τῆς συνουσίας τοῦ δαι-

Ξροτ int, δὲ οὐδέποτε. μον δύναμες, οὗτοί εἰσιν ὧν καὶ σὺ
eag. 1 ᾿ σαι" ταχὺ παραχρῆμα. ἐπιδι-
3 Plate, Theagts, 129 E. ταῦτα δὴ ence γὰρ

πάντα εἴρηκά σοι, ὅτι ἡ δύναμις αὕτη δ Plato, Theag. 180 AB Τί δαί;
τοῦ δαιμονίον τούτον καὶ εἰς τὰς συνου- οὐκ οἶδεν, & , πρὶν σοὶ σνγγενέσθαι,
σίας τῶν per ἐμοῦ σννδιατριβόντων τὸ οἷον ἦν τὸ ἀνδρά vs;

CuaP. XV. PECULIAR INFLUENCE OF SOKRATES. 108

myself, too, have fallen into a despicable condition. When I left
you, I was competent to discuss with any one and make a good
figure, so that I courted debate with the most accomplished men.
Now, on the contrary, I avoid them altogether—so thoroughly
am I ashamed of my own incapacity. Did the capacity (I,
Sokrates, asked Aristeides) forsake you all at once, or little by
little? Little by little, he replied. And when you possessed it
(I asked), did you get it by learning from me? or in what other
way? I will tell you, Sokrates (he answered), what seems
incredible, yet is nevertheless true! I never learnt from you
any thing at all. You yourself well know this. But I always
made progress, whenever I was along with you, even if I were
only in the same house without being in the same room; but I
made greater progress, if I was in the same room—greater still, if
I looked in your face, instead of turning my eyes elsewhere—and
the greatest of all, by far, if I sat close and touching you. But
now (continued Aristeides) all that I then acquired has dribbled
out of me.?

Sokr.—I have now explained to you, Theagés, what it is to
become my companion. If it be the pleasure of the qheages ex-
God, you will make great and rapid progress : if not, soxiety ps
not. Consider, therefore, whether it is not safer for received as
you to seek instruction from some of those who are ‘¢compa-
themselves masters of the benefits which they impart, Sokrates.
rather than to take your chance of the result with me.* Theag.—
I shall be glad, Sokrates, to become your companion, and to make
trial of this divine coadjutor. If he shows himself propitious,
that will be the best of all: if not, we can then take counsel,
whether I shall try to propitiate him by prayer, sacrifice, or any
other means which the prophets may recommend—or whether I
shall go to some other teacher. ‘

1 Plato, Theag. 130 D. Ἡνέκα δέ σοι μάλιστα καὶ πλεῖστον ἐπεδίδουν, ὁπότε
παρεγένετο (ἡ δύναμις), πότερον μαθόντι ᾿ αὐτόν σε καθοίμην ἐχόμενός gov
παρ᾽ ἐμοῦ τι παρεγένετο, ἥ τινι ἄλλῳ καὶ ard . | vow δέ, ἣ δ᾽ ὅς, πᾶσα
τρόπῳ; ᾿Ἐγώ σοι, ἔφη, ἐρῶ, ὦ Σώκρατες, ἐκείνη ἢ ἕξις ,ἐξεῤῥύηκεν. . ,
ἅπιστον μὲν νὴ τοὺς θεούς, ἀληθὲς δέ. 3 Plato, Theag. 130 E. ὅρα οὖν μή
ἐγὼ γὰρ ἔμαθον μὲν παρὰ σοὺ οὐδὲν σοι ἀσφαλέστερον yf wap’ ἐκείνων τινι
πώποτε, ὡς αὐτὸς οἶσθα“ ἐπεδίδουν δὲ παιδεύεσθαι, of ἐγκρατεῖς αὐτοί εἰσι τῆς
ὁπότε σοι συνείην, κἂν εἰ ἐν τῇ αὐτῇ ὠφελείας, ἣν ὠφελοῦσι τοὺς ἀνθρώπονς,
μόνον οἰκίᾳ εἴην, μὴ ἐν τῷ αὐτῷ δὲ μάλλον ἣ wap’ ἐμοῦ ὅ, τι ἂν τύχῃ, τοῦτο
οἰκήματι, , πρᾶξαι.

“ΖΡιδίο, Theag. 180 E. πολὺ δὲ 4 Plato, Theag. 181 A.

104 THEAGES. CHaP. XV.

The Theagés figured in the list of Thrasyllus as first in the
Remarks on fifth Tetralogy : the other three members of the same
the Theagés Tetralogy being Charmidés, Lachés, Lysis. Some
with the” ‘persons considered it suitable to read as first dialogue
Iachés. = of all.’ There are several points of analogy between
the Theagés and the Lachés, though with a different turn given
to them. Aristeides and Thucydides are mentioned in both of
them : Sokrates also is solicited to undertake the duty of teacher. |
The ardour of the young Theagés to acquire wisdom reminds us
of Hippokrates at the beginning of the Protagoras. The string
of questions put by Sokrates to Theagés, requiring that what is
called wisdom shall be clearly defined and specialised, has its
parallel in many of the Platonic dialogues. Moreover the declara-
tion of Sokrates, that he knows nothing except about matters of
love, but that in them he is a consummate master—is the same
as what he explicitly declares both in the Symposion and other
dialogues. ὅ

But the chief peculiarity of the Theagés consists in the stress
Chief peculi- which is laid upon the Demon, the divine voice, the
ὍΣΣ ας ἢ the inspiration of Sokrates. This divine auxiliary is here
Stress laid described, not only as giving a timely check or warn-
Girine sien ing to Sokrates, when either he or his friends contem-
or Demon. plated any inauspicious project—but also as inter-
vening, in the case of those youthful companions with whom he
conversed, to promote the improvement of one, to obstruct that
of others ; so that whether Sokrates will produce any effect or
not in improving any one, depends neither upon his own efforts
nor upon those of the recipient, but upon the unpredictable con-
currence of a divine agency. 3

Plato employs the Sokratic Demon, in the Theagés, for a
Plato em- philosophical purpose, which, I think, admits of

loys this reasonable explanation. During the eight (perhaps

vine si

here te ten) years of his personal communion with Sokrates,

1 Diog. L. iii. 59-61. - It is not reasonable to treat this
2Symposion, 177 E. οὔτε γὰρ ἄν declaration of Sokrates, in the Th
πον ἐγὼ ἀποφήσαιμι, ὃς οὐδέν φημι ἄλλο as an evidence that the dialogue is
ἐπίστασθαι ἣ τὰ ἐρωτικά. Com the work of a falenrins, | when a declaration
same dialo e, p. 212 B, 216 Phz- quite is ibed to Sokrates tes in
drus, 257 A; Lysis, “904 B. other Platonic dial
Compare. also Xenoph. Memor. ii. 6, 28; 3 See some “on this point in
Xenoph. Sympos. iv. 27. Appendix.

CuHap. XV. THE DEMON AS VIEWED BY PLATO. 105

he had had large experience of the variable and un- render some
accountable effect produced by the Sokratic conver- of the sin-
sation upon different hearers: a fact which is also psec hari

attested by the Xenophontic Memorabilia. Thisdiffer- of Sokrates,
: and of his

ence οὗ effect was in no way commensurate to the anequal in-
intelligence of the hearers. Chzrephon, Apollodérus, fuencoupon
Kriton, seem to have been ordinary men :—! while companions,
Kritias and Alkibiades, who brought so much discredit both upon
Sokrates and his teaching, profited little by him, though they
were among the ablest pupils that he ever addressed: moreover
Antisthenes, and Aristippus, probably did not appear to Plato
(since he greatly dissented from their philosophical views) to have
profited much by the common companionship with Sokrates.
Other companions there must have been also personally known
to Plato, though not to us: for we must remember that Sokrates
passed his whole day in talking with all listeners Now when
Plato in after life came to cast the ministry of Sokrates into
dramatic scenes, and to make each scene subservient to the illus-
tration of some philosophical point of view, at least a negative—
he was naturally led to advert to the Demon or divine inspira-
tion, which formed so marked a feature in the character of his
master. The concurrence or prohibition of this divine auxiliary
served to explain why it was that the seed, sown broadcast by
Sokrates, sometimes fructified, and sometimes did not fructify,
or speedily perished afterwards—when no sufficient explanatory
peculiarity could be pointed out in the ground on which it fell.
It gave an apparent reason for the perfect singularity of the
course pursued by Sokrates: for his preternatural acuteness in
one direction, and his avowed incapacity in another: for his
mastery of the Elenchus, convicting men of ignorance, and his
inability to supply them with knowledge: for his refusal to
undertake the duties of a teacher. All these are mysterious
features of the Sokratic character. The intervention of the
Demon appears to afford an explanation, by converting them
into religious mysteries : which, though it be no explanation at
all, yet is equally efficacious by stopping the mouth of the ques-
tioner, and by making him believe that it is guilt and impiety to

1 Xenophon, Apol. Sokr. 28. ᾿Απολ- ἄλλως δ᾽ ev7Os.—Plat. Phedon, 117
λόδωρος--ἐπιθυμήτης μὲν ἰσχνρῶς αὐτοῦ,

106 THEAGES, Cuap. XV.

ask for explanation—as Sokrates himself declared in regard to
astronomical phenomena, and as Herodotus feels, when his nar-
rative is crossed by strange religious legends. ! |

In this manner, the Theagés is made by Plato to exhibit one

way of parrying the difficulty frequently addressed to
while con- Sokrates by various hearers: “You tell us that the
finding fault leading citizens cannot even teach their own sons, and
pith other that the Sophists teach nothing worth having: you’
> perpetually call upon us to seek for better teachers,
teach him- without telling us where such are to be found. We
gulty of find- entreat you to teach us yourself, conformably to your
cuse for his oWn Views.”
Thats far If a leader of political opposition, after years em-
egan ployed in denouncing successive administrators as
ignorant and iniquitous, refuses, when invited, to take
upon himeelf the business of administration—an intelligent admirer
must find some decent pretence to colour the refusal. Such a
pretence is found for Sokrates in the Theagés: “1 am not my
own master on this point. I am the instrument of a divine ally,
without whose active working I can accomplish nothing: who —
forbids altogether my teaching of one man—tolerates, without
assisting, my unavailing lessons to another—assists efficaciously
in my teaching of a third, in which case alone the pupil receives
any real benefit. The assistance of this divine ally is given or
withheld according to motives of his own, which I cannot even
foretell, much less influence. I should deceive you therefore if I
undertook to teach, when I cannot tell whether I shall do good
or harm.”

The reply of Theagés meets this scruple. He asks permission
to make the experiment, and promises to propitiate the divine
auxiliary by prayer and sacrifice: under which reserve Sokrates
gives consent.

It isin this way that the Demon or divine auxiliary serves
Plato does the purpose of reconciling what would otherwise be
not always, an inconsistency in the proceedings of Sokrates. I
dialogues, ΚΟ mean, that such is the purpose served in this dia-
divine sign logue: I know perfectly that Plato deals with the

1 Xen. Mem. iv. 7, 6-6; Herodot. ii. 8, 45-46.

Cuap. XV. DIVINE PRIVILEGE TO SOKRATES. 107

case differently elsewhere: but I am not bound (as in the game
I have said more than once) to force upon all the character
dialogues one and the same point of view. That the Suémoring
agency of the Gods was often and in the most impor- impenetra- |
tant cases, essentially undiscoverable and unpredict- a privileged
able, and that in such cases they might sometimes be Pe™8°-
prevailed on to give special warnings to favoured persons—were
doctrines which the historical Sokrates in Xenophon asserts with
emphasis.' The Demon of Sokrates was believed, both by him-
self and his friends, to be a special privilege and an extreme case
of divine favour and communication to him.? It was perfectly
applicable to the scope of the Theagés, though Plato might not
choose always to make the same employment of it. It is used in
the same general way in the Thestétus;? doubtless with less
expansion, and blended with another analogy (that of the mid-

wife) which introduces a considerable difference. ‘

1 Xenoph, Memor. i. 1, 8-9-19. ὑπὸ τοῦ θεοῦ πράττειν καὶ ἐκ μαντειῶν
Euripi Hecub. 944. καὶ ἐξ ἐνυπνίων καὶ παντὶ τρόπῳ, ᾧπέρ

5 τίς ποτε καὶ ἄλλη θεία μοίρα ἀνθρώπῳ
φύρονσι δ᾽ αὐτὰ θεοὶ πάλιν τε καὶ καὶ ὁτιοῦν προσέταξε πράττειν. 40 Α.

πρόσω, ἰωθ ὃ
q εἰωθνιά μοι μαντικὴ ἡ τοῦ δαι-
γμὸν ἐντιθέντες, & ὡς ἀγνωσίᾳ moda ἢ ἐν μὲν τῷ πρόσθεν χρόνῳ παντὶ
μεν abro wavy πυκνὴ ἀεὶ ἦν καὶ πάνν
2 Xenoph. Mem. iv. 8, 12. ἐπὶ σμικροῖς ἐναντιονμένη,
8 Plato, Thesetét. 150 ἘΞ. εἴ τι μέλλοιμι μὴ ὀρθῶς πράξειν. Com-

‘Plato, Apolog. Sokr. 88 ©. ἐμοὶ pare Xe Xenop on, Memor. iv. 8, 5; Apol
δὲ τοῦτο, ws ἐγώ φημι, προστέτακται

108 T HEAGES, . Cuap. XV.

APPENDIX.
Td δαιμόνιον σημεῖον.

Here is one of the points most insisted on by Schleiermacher and
Stallbaum, as proving that the Theagés is not the work of Plato.
These critics affirm (to use the language of Stallbaum, Proleg. p. 220)
‘‘Quam Plato alias de Socratis demonio prodidit sententiam, ea
longissimé recedit ab 1118 ratione, que in hoc sermone exposita est”.
He says that the representation of the Demon of Sokrates, given in
the Theagés, has been copied from a passage in the Thextétus, by an
imitator who has not understood the passage, p. 150, D, E. But
Socher (p. 97) appears to me to have shown satisfactorily, that there
is no such material difference as these critics affirm between this
passage of the Thesetétus and the Theagés. In the Theetétus, So-
krates declares, that none of his companions learnt any thing from
him, but that all of them οἷσπερ ἂν ὁ θεὸς παρείκῃ (the very same
term is used at the close of the Theagés—1381 A, ἐὰν μὲν παρείκῃ ἡμῖν
᾿-ο-Οτὸ δαιμόνιον) made astonishing progress and improvement in his
company. Stallbaum says, ‘‘Itaque ὁ θεὸς, quiibi memoratur, non est
Socratis demonium, sed potius deus t.e. sors divina. Quod non perspi-
ciens noster tenebrio protenus illud demonium, quod Socrates sibi semper
adesse dictitabat, ad eum dignitatis et potentiz gradum evexit, ut, &c.”
I agree with Socher in thinking that the phrase ὁ θεὸς in the Theetétus
has substantially the same meaning as τὸ δαιμόνιον in the Theagés. Both
Schleiermacher (Notes on the Apology, p. 432) and Ast (p. 482), have
notes on the phrase τὸ δαιμόνιον---ηα I think the note of Ast is the
more instructive of the two. In Plato and Xenophon, the words τὸ
δαιμόνιον, τὸ θεῖον, are in many cases undistinguishable in meaning
from ὁ δαίμων, ὁ θεός. Compare the Phedrus, 242 Εἰ, about θεὸς and
θεῖόν rt. Sokrates, in his argument against Meletus in the Apology
(p. 27) emphatically argues that no man could believe in any thing
δαιμόνιον, without also believing in δαίμονες. The special θεῖόν τι καὶ

CHap. XV. APPENDIX. 109

δαιμόνιον (Apol. p. 31 C), which presented itself in regard to him and
his proceedings, was only one of the many modes in which (as he be-
lieved) 6 θεός commanded and stimulated him to work upon the
minds of the Athenians : τ ἐμοὶ δὲ τοῦτο, ὡς ἐγώ φημι, προστέτακται
ὑπὸ τοῦ θεοῦ πράττειν καὶ ἐκ μαντειῶν καὶ ἐξ ἐνυπνίων καὶ παντὶ
τρόπῳ, ᾧπέρ τίς ποτε καὶ ἄλλη θεία μοῖρα ἀνθρώπῳ καὶ ὁτιοῦν
προσέταξε πράττειν (Apol. p. 88 C). So again in Apol. p. 40 A, Β,
ἡ εἰωθυῖά μοι μαντικὴ ἡ rou Satpoviov—and four lines afterwards we
read the very same fact intimated in the words, τὸ τοῦ θεοῦ σημεῖον,
where Sokratis demonium—and Deus—are identified : thus refuting
the argument above cited from Stallbaum. There is therefore no such
discrepancy, in reference to τὸ δαιμόνιον, as Stallbaum and Schleier-
macher contend for. We perceive indeed this difference between them
—that in the Theetétus, the simile of the obstetric art is largely em-
ployed, while it is not noticed in the Theagés. But we should impose
an unwarrantable restriction upon Plato’s fancy, if we hindered him
from working out his variety and exuberance of metaphors, and from
accommodating each dialogue to the metaphor predominant with him
at the time.

Moreover, in respect to what is called the Demon of Sokrates, we
ought hardly to expect that either Plato or Xenophon would always
be consistent even with themselves. It is unsafe for a modern critic
to determine beforehand, by reason or feelings of his own, in what
manner either of them would speak upon this mysterious subject.
The belief and feeling of a divine intervention was very real on the
part of beth, but their manner of conceiving it might naturally fluc-
tuate: and there was, throughout all the proceedings of Sokrates, a
mixture of the serious and the playful, of the sublime and the eccen-
tric, of ratiocinative acuteness with impulsive superstition—which it
is difficult to bring into harmonious interpretation. Such hetero-
geneous mixture is forcibly described in the Platonic Symposium, pp.
215-222. When we consider how undefined, and undefinable, the idea
of this δαιμόνιον was, we cannot wonder if Plato ascribes to it different
workings and manifestations at different times. Stallbaum affirms
that it is made ridiculous in the Theagés : and Kiihner declares that
Plutarch makes it ridiculous, in his treatise De Genio Sokratis (Comm.
ad. Xenoph. Memor. p. 23). But this is because its agency is de-
scribed more in detail. You can easily present it in a ridiculous
aspect, by introducing it as intervening on petty and insignificant
matters. Now it is remarkable, that in the Apology, we are expressly
told that it actually did intervene on the most trifling occasions—mdvv

110 THEAGES. Cuap. XV.

ἐπὶ σμικροῖς ἐναντιουμένη. The business of an historian of philosophy
is, to describe it as it was really felt and believed by Sokrates and
Plato—whether a modern critic may consider the description ridiculous
or not.

When Schleiermacher says (Einleitung, p. 248), respecting the
falsarius whom he supposes to have written the Theagés—‘“‘ Damit ist
ihm begegnet, auf eine héchst verkehrte Art wunderbar zusammenzu-
rihren diese gittliche Schickung, und jenes persénliche Vorgefiihl
welches dem Sokrates zur gittlichen Stimme ward ”.—I contend that
the mistake is chargeable to Schleiermacher himself, for bisecting into
two phenomena that which appears in the Apology as the same
phenomenon under two different names—ré δαιμόνιον---τὸ τοῦ θεοῦ
σημεῖον. Besides, to treat the Demon as a mere ‘‘ personal presenti-
ment” of Sokrates, may be a true view:—but it is the view of one who
does not inhale the same religious atmosphere as Sokrates, Plato, and
Xenophon. It cannot therefore be properly applied in explaining
their sayings or doings. Kiihner, who treats the Theagés as not com-
posed by Plato, grounds this belief partly on the assertion, that the
δαιμόνιον of Sokrates is described therein as something peculiar to So-
krates ; which, according to Kiihner, was the fiction of a subsequent
time. By Sokrates and his contemporaries (Kiihner says) it was con-
sidered ‘‘ non sibi soli tanquam proprium quoddam beneficium a Diis
tributum, sed commune sibi esse cum ceteris hominibus ” (pp. 20-21).
I dissent entirely from this view, which is contradicted by most of the
passages noticed even by Kiihner himself. It is at variance with the
Platonic Apology, as well as with the Thextétus (150 D), and Re-
public (vi. 496 C). Xenophon does indeed try, in the first Chapter of
the Memorabilia, as the defender of Sokrates, to soften the invidia
against Sokrates, by intimating that other persons had communica-
tions from the Gods as well as he. But we see plainly, even from
other passages of the Memorabilia, that this was not the persuasion of
Sokrates himself, nor of his friends, nor of his enemies, They all
considered it (as it is depicted in the Theagés also) to be a special
privilege and revelation.

Car. XVL ERASTZ OR ANTERASTZ. 111

CHAPTER XVL
ERASTA OR ANTERASTZ—RIVALES.

THE main subject of this short dialogue is—What is philosophy ἢ
ἡ φιλοσοφία---τὸ φιλοσοφεῖν. How are we to explain or define
it? What is its province and purport ?

Instead of the simple, naked, self-introducing, conversation,
which we read in the Menon, Hipparchus, Minos, &., ἢ
Sokrates recounts a scene and colloquy, which occurred Subject and
when he went into the house of Dionysius the gram- Persone or ΚΟ
matist or school-master,! frequented by many elegant —Dramatic
and high-born youths as pupils. Two of these youths tion—inte-
were engaged in animated debate upon some geome- youths in
trical or astronomical problem, in the presence of the pale-

. . stra.

various spectators ; and especially of two young men,

rivals for the affection of one of them. Of these rivals, the one
is a person devoted to music, letters, discourse, philosophy :—the
other hates and despises these pursuits, devoting himself to
gymnastic exercise, and bent on acquiring the maximum of
athletic force. It is much the same contrast as that between the
brothers Amphion and Zethus in the Antiopé of Euripides—
which is beautifully employed as an illustration by Plato in the
Gorgias.* |

As soon as Sokrates begins his interrogatories, the two youths
relinquish‘ their geometrical talk, and turn to him as_ Two rival
attentive listeners. Their approach affects his emo- Eraste em
tions hardly less than those of the Erastes. He first literary, de-

1 Plato, Eraste, 182. εἰς Διονυσίου Cicero De Oratore, ii. 87, 156.
τοῦ γραμματιστοῦ εἰσῆλθον, καὶ εἶδον 4 The powerful sentiment οἵ admira-
αὑτόθε τῶν τε νέων τοὺς ἐπιεικεστάτους tion ascribed to Sokratesin the presence
δοκοῦντας εἶναι τὴν ἰδέαν καὶ πατέρων of these beautiful youths deserves notice
εὐδοκί ν τ τούτον ἐραστάς. as a point in his character. Compare
2p Erast. 182 the beginning of the Charmidés and
3 Plato, Gorgias, 485-486. Compare the Ly

118 ERASTE OR ANTERASTA. Cap. XVL

votedto . enquires from the athletic Erastes, What is it that
philosophy .
—the other these two youths are so intently engaged upon? It
fling chi. must surely be something very fine, to judge by the
losophy. eagerness which they display ? How do you mean
fine (replies the athlete)? They are only prosing about astro-
nomical matters—talking nonsense—philosophising ! The lite-
rary rival,on the contrary, treats this athlete as unworthy of
attention, speaks with enthusiastic admiration of philosophy, and
declares that all those to whom it is repugnant are degraded
specimens of humanity.

Sokr.—You think philosophy a fine thing? But you cannot

ton put tell whether it is fine or not, unless you know what it

Sokrates, is?! Pray explain to me what philosophy is. rast.
poate hi —I will do so readily. Philosophy consists in the
is the per- perpetual growth of a man’s knowledge—in his going
mulation of ON perpetually acquiring something new, both in youth
knowledge, and old age, so that he may learn as much as possible
the largest during life. Philosophy is polymathy.? Sokr.—You
think philosophy not only a fine thing, but good?
Erast. —Yes—very good. Sokr.—But is the case similar in regard
to gymnastic? Is a man’s bodily condition benefited by taking
as much exercise, or as much nourishment, as possible? Is such
very great quantity good for the body 1

It appears after some debate (in which the other or athletic
Inthe case Erastes sides with Sokrates 4) that in regard to exer-
of the body. cise and food, it is not the great quantity, or the small
maximum quantity, which is good for the body—but the mode-
which does ‘Tate or measured quantity.°© For the mind, the case is
proper, mee- admitted to be similar. Not the much, nor the Little,
sai red, quan- of learning is good for it—but the right or measured
the mind amount. Sokr. ~—And who is the competent judge,

1 Plat. Erast. 133 A-B. athletic rival), I could perf well

. 3 Erast. . ὶ ve defen my answer, and even

copiay wohabevar Ὁ. τὴν φιλο. a worse answer still, for he is quite
3 Plat. Erast. 138 E. worthless (οὐδὲν γάρ ἐστιλ"

This is a curious e, ilustrat-
4 Bro Erast. 134 B-C. The literary ing the dialectic its of the day,

says to Sokrates, “To you d the prid felt in maintaining an
have no no οὐ ection to concede this point, a asWor Olce giv “ ing
that my y previous answer 5 Plato, Taste, 184 B-D. τὰ μέ-

cast be eo modified. t if I were to hey,
debate the point only ‘vith him (the τρια μάλιστα oe iy, ἀλλὰ μὴ τὰ πολλὰ

Cap. XVI WHAT IS PHILOSOPHY ?

how much of either is right measure for the body?
Frast.—The physician and the gymnastic trainer.
Sokr.—Who is the competent judge, how much seed is
right measure for sowing a field? Hrast.—The farmer.
Sokr.—Who is the competent judge, in reference to the
sowing and planting of knowledge in the mind, which
varieties are good, and how much of each is right
Measure ἢ

113

also, it is not
the maxi-
mum of
knowledge,
but the mea-
sured quan-
tity which
isgood. Who,
is the judge
to determine
this mea-
sure ?

The question is one which none of the persons present can

answer.! None of them can tell who is the special
referee, about training of mind ; corresponding to the
physician or the farmer in the analogous cases. So-
krates then puts a question somewhat different : Sokr.
—Since we have agreed, that the man who prosecutes
philosophy ought not to learn many things, still less
all things—what is the best conjecture that we can
make, respecting the matters which he ought to learn?
Erast.—The finest and most suitable acquirements for
him to aim at, are-those which will yield to him the
greatest reputation as a philosopher. He ought to
appear accomplished in every variety of science, or at
least in all the more important ; and with that view,
to learn as much of each as becomes a freeman to

No answer
given. What
15 the best
conjecture ?
Answer of
the literary
Erastes. A
Man must
learn that
which will
yield to him
the greatest
reputation
as a philo-
sopher—as
muchas wil}
enable him
to talk like
an intelli-
gent critic,
hough not
to practise.

know :—that is, what belongs to the intelligent critic, as distin-
guished from the manual operative: to the planning and super-
intending architect, as distinguished from the working carpenter.?
Sokr.—But you cannot learn even two different arts to this extent
—much less several considerable arts. Hrast.—I do not of course
mean that the philosopher can be supposed to know each of them
accurately, like the artist himself—but only as much as may be
expected from the free and cultivated citizen. That is, he shall
be able to appreciate, better than other hearers, the observations
made’ by the artist : and farther to deliver a reasonable opinion
of his own, so as to be accounted, by all the hearers, more accom-
‘plished in the affairs of the art than themselves, ὃ

Sokr.—You mean that the philosopher is to be second-best in

1 Plato, Erast. 184 E, 135 A.
2 Plat. Erast. 186 B. ὅσα ξυνέσεως

2—8

ἔχεται, μὴ ὅσα xecpoupyias.
3 Plat. Erast. 135 D.

114 _ ERASTZ OR ANTERASTA. CHaP. XVI.

The @ philo- several distinct pursuits: like the Pentathlus, who
oe wt whois is not expected to equal either the runner or the
second-best wrestler-in their own separate departments, but only
different (0 surpass competitors in the five matches taken
the together. 1 Krast.—Yes—I mean what you say. He
who heer is one who does not enslave himself to any one
each. matter, nor works out any one with such strictness as
to neglect all others: he attends to all of them in reasonable
measure.?

Upon this answer Sokrates proceeds to cross-examine :—Sokr.
Onwhat Do you think that good men are useful, bad men
occasions useless? Hrast.—Yes—I do. Sokr.—You think that
second-best Philosophers, as you describe them, are useful?
men be Frast.—Certainly: extremely useful. Sokr.—But tell
Thereare me on what occasions such second-best men are
rr ay useful: for obviously they are inferior to each
toners at = separate artist. If you fall sick will you send for one
noone will of them, or for a professional physician? Erast.—
call in the | I should send for both. Sokr.—That is no answer:
man when J wish to know, which of the two you will send for,
the first and by preference? Hrast.—No doubt—I shall
practitioner. send for the professional physician. Sokr.—The like
also, if you are in danger on shipboard, you will entrust your life
~ to the pilot rather than to the philosopher : and so as to all other
matters, as long as a professional man is to be found, the philo-
sopher is of no use? Erast.—So it appears. Sokr.—Our philo-
-sopher then is one of the useless persons: for we assuredly have
professional men at hand. Now we agreed before, that good
men were useful, bad men useless? Hrast.—Yes; that was

Sokr.—If then you have correctly defined a philosopher to be
Philosophy One who has a second-rate knowledge on many sub-
cannot con- jects, he is useless so long as there exist professional
tiplication artistson each subject. Your definition cannot there-
acq’ fore be correct. Philosophy must be something quite
ments, apart from this multifarious and busy meddling with
1 Plat. Erast. 185 Ἐ, 136 A. καὶ ing. the quoit and the jarelin , wrestling.

οὕτως γίγνεσθαι περὶ πάντα ὕπακρόν τινα ἀλλὰ πάντων

πεφιλο or fi ἐφῆφθ
matches wore icapine, running, throw Ἣν ρα Beast. 196 C-D.

Cap. XVL SECOND-BEST IN SEVERAL PURSUITS. 115

different professional subjects, or this multiplication of learned
acquirements. Indeed I fancied, that to be absorbed in profes-
sional subjects and in variety of studies, was vulgar and dis-
creditable rather than otherwise.!

Let us now, however (continues Sokrates), take up the matter
in another way. In regard to horses and dogs, those who punish
rightly are also those who know how to make them better, and
to discriminate with most exactness the good from the bad?
Erast.—Yes: such is the fact.

Sokr.—Is not the case similar with men? Is it not the same
art, which punishes men rightly, makes them better, goprates
and best distinguishes the good from the bad? changes his
whether applied to one, few, or many? rast.—It is examina-
so.2 Sokr.—The art or science, whereby men punish [02. Ques-
evil-doers rightly, is the judicial or justice: and it is to show
by the.same that they know the good apart from the jis one
bad, either one or many. If any man be a stranger
to this art, so as not to know good men apart from political,
bad, is he not also ignorant of himself, whether he be tering and
a good ora bad man? Frast.—Yes: he is. Sokr.— discrimi.
To be ignorant of yourself, is to be wanting in bad from
sobriety or temperance; to know yourself is to be
sober or temperate. But this is the same art as that by which
we punish rightly—or justice. Therefore justice and temperance
are the same: and the Delphian rescript, Know thyself, does in
fact enjoin the practice both of justice and of sobriety.2 Erast.—
So it appears. Sokr.—Now it is by this same art, when practised
by a king, rightly punishing evil-doers, that cities are well
governed ; it is by the same art practised by a private citizen or
house-master, that the house is well-governed : so that this art,
‘justice or sobriety, is at the same time political, regal, econo-
mical ; and the just and sober man is at once the true king,
statesman, house-master.4 Hrast.—I admit it.

Sokr.—Now let me ask you. You said that it was discreditable
for the philosopher, when in company with a phy- In this art
sician or any other craftsman talking about matters of the philo: ΚΕ
-his own craft, not to be able to follow what he said not only be

1 Plato, Erast. 137 B. 3 Plato, Erast. 138 A.
2 Plato, Erast. 137 C-D. 4 Plato, Erast. 188 C.

ERASTZ OR ANTERASTZ. Crap. XVE.

comnetent and comment upon it. Would it not also be dis-
to talk—but creditable to the philosopher, when listening to any
afallyanelt. king, judge, or house-master, about professional
fed Practi- affairs, not to be able to understand and comment?

to Erast.—Assuredly it would be most discreditable
: upon matters of such grave moment. Sokr.—Shall
we , say then, that upon these matters also, as well as all others,
the philosopher ought to be a Pentathlus or second-rate per-
former, useless so long as the special craftsman is at hand? or
shall we not rather affirm, that he must not confide his own
house to any one else, nor be the second-best within it, but must
himself judge and punish rightly, if his house is to be well
administered? Hrast.—That too I admit. Sokr.—Farther, if
his friends shall entrust to him the arbitration of their disputes,
" —if the city shall command him to act as Dikast or to settle any
difficulty,—in those cases also it will be disgraceful for him to
stand second or third, and not to be first-rate? Hrast.—I think
it will be. Sokr.—You see then, my friend, philosophy is some-
thing very different from much learning and acquaintance with
multifarious arts or sciences.”
᾿ς Upon my saying this (so Sokrates concludes his recital of the
Clove of the conversation) the literary one of the two rivals was
dislogue— . ashamed and held his peace; while the gymnastic
rival declared that 1 was in the right, and the other
hearers also commended what I had said.

The antithesis between the philo-gymnast, hater of philosophy,
—and the enthusiastic admirer of philosophy, who

Animated nevertheless cannot explain what it is—gives much
the dia- point and vivacity to this short dialogue. This last
logue.

person is exhibited as somewhat presumptuous and
confident ; thus affording a sort of excuse for the humiliating

1 Plato, Erast. 138 E. Πότερον οὖν
καὶ περὶ ταῦτα λέγωμεν, πένταθλον
αὐτὸν δεῖν εἶναι καὶ ὕπακρον, τὰ ῥεντε-
ρεῖα ἔχοντα πάντων, τὸν φιλόσοφον, καὶ
ἀχρεῖον εἶναι, ἕως ἄν τούτων τις ἡ; ; ἣ
πρῶτον τὴν αὑτοῦ οἰκίαν οὐκ addy
ἐπιτρεπτέον οὐδε τὰ δευτερεῖα' ἐν τούτῳ

ἑκτέον, ἀλλ᾽ αὐτὸν κολαστέον δικάζοντα
ὀρθῶς, εἰ μέλλει εὖ οἰκεῖσθαι αὑτοῦ ἡ
οἰκία;

3 Plato, Erast. 189 A. Πολλοῦ dpa
δεῖ ἡμῖν, ὦ βέλτιστε, τὸ “Φιλοσοφεῖν
πολυμάθειά τε εἶναι καὶ ἡ περὶ τὰς τέχνας
πραγματεία.

CuHap. XVL ART OF GOVERNMENT ESSENTIAL. 117

cross-examination put upon him by Sokrates to the satisfaction
of his stupid rival. Moreover, the dramatic introduction is full
of animation, like that of the Charmidés and Lysis.

Besides the animated style of the dialogue, the points raised for
discussion in it are of much interest. The word philosophy has
at all times been vague and ambiguous. Certainly no one before
Sokrates—probably no one before Plato—ever sought a definition
of it. In no other Platonic dialogue than this, is the definition
of it made‘a special topic of research.

It is here handled in Plato’s negative, elenchtic, tentative,
manner. By some of his contemporaries, philosophy Definition
-was really considered as equivalent to polymathy, or of philo-
to much and varied knowledge: so at least Plato S0PhY—

ἢ : “ ee here sought
represents it as being considered by Hippias the for the first

Sophist, contrary to the opinion of Protagoras.! The tone oom
exception taken by Sokrates to a definition founded céPtion of
‘on simple quantity, without any standard point of referee not
sufficiency by which much or little is to be measured,
introduces that governing idea of τὸ μέτριον (the moderate, that
which conforms to a standard measure) upon which Plato insists
so much in other more elaborate dialogues. The conception of a
measure, of a standard of measurement—and of conformity
thereunto, as the main constituent of what is good and desirable
—stands prominent in his mind,’ though it is not always handled
in the same way. We have seen it, in the Second Alkibiadés,
indicated under another name as knowledge of Good or of the
Best: without which, knowledge on special matters was declared
to .be hurtful rather than useful. Plato considers that this
Measure is neither discernible nor applicable except by a
specially trained intelligence. In the Erastz as elsewhere, such
an intelligence is called for in general terms: but when it is
asked, Where is the person possessing such intelligence, avail-
able in the case of mental training—neither Sokrates nor any
one else can point him out. To suggest a question, and direct

1 Plato, Protag. 318 E. Compare, Philébus, Ὁ. 64 Ὁ, and the Prota-
too, the Platonic dialogues, Hippias goras, pp. 356-357, where ἡ μετρητικὴ
jor and Minor. τέχνη is declared to be the principal
See about ἡ τοῦ perpiov φύσις, as saviour of life and happiness.
οὐσία---ὉΒ ὄντως ytyvounevov.—Plato, 8 Plato, Alkib. ii. 145-146; supra,
Politikus, 288-284. Compare also the ch. xii. p. 16.

118 ERASTZ OR ANTERASTZ. Cuap. XVL

attention to it, yet still to leave it unanswered—is a practice
familiar with Plato. In this respect the Erastz is like other
dialogues. The answer, if any, intended to be understood or
divined, is, that such an intelligence is the philosopher him-
self.

The second explanation of philosophy here given—that the
philosopher is one who is second-best in many depart-
ments, and a good talker upon all, but inferior to the
second best special master in each—was supposed by Thrasyllus
ing man,4s in aricient times to be pointed at ‘Demokritus. By
withthe | many Platonic critics, it is referred to those persons
whom they single out to be called Sophists. I con-

i- ceive it to be applicable (whether intended or not) to

° the literary men generally of that age, the persons
called Sophists included. That which Perikles expressed by the
word, when he claimed the love of wisdom and the love of beauty
as characteristic features of the Athenian citizen—referred chiefly
to the free and abundant discussion, the necessity felt by every
one for talking over every thing’ before it was done, yet accom-
panied with full energy in action as soon as the resolution was
taken to act.1 Speech, ready and pertinent, free conflict of
opinion on many different topics—was the manifestation and
the measure of knowledge acquired. Sokrates passed his life in
talking, with every one indiscriminately, and upon each man’s
particular subject ; often perplexing the artist himself. Xeno-
phon recounts conversations with various professional men—a
painter, a sculptor, an armourer—and informs us that it was
instructive to all of them, though Sokrates was no practitioner
in any craft.2_ It was not merely Demokritus, but Plato and
Aristotle also, who talked or wrote upon almost every subject
included in contemporary observation. The voluminous works
of Aristotle,—the Timzus, Republic, and Leges, of Plato,—
embrace a large variety of subjects, on each of which, severally
taken, these two great men were second-best or inferior to some
special proficient. Yet both of them had judgments to give,

1 Thucyd. ii. 89 fin.—40. καὶ ἕν re of the same chapter about the intimate
φούτοις τὴν πόλιν ἀξίαν εἶναι θαυμάζεσ- conjunction of abundant
θαι, καὶ ἔτι ἐν ἄλλοις. φιλοκαλοῦμεν γὰρ energetic action in the Athenian cha-
μετ᾽ εὐτελείας καὶ φιλοσοφοῦμεν ἄνεν

racter.
μαλακίας, &c.,and theremarkablesequel 2 Xen. Mem. iii. 10; iii. 11; iL 12

βαρ. XVI. PHILOSOPHY HAS A PROVINCE OF HER OWN. 119

which it was important to hear, upon all subjects :! and both of
them could probably talk better upon each than the special pro-
ficient himself. Aristotle, for example, would write better upon
rhetoric than Demosthenes—upon tragedy, than Sophokles. Un-
doubtedly, if an oration or a tragedy were to be composed—if
resolution or action were required on any real state of particular
circumstances—the special proficient would be called upon to
act: but it would be a mistake to infer from hence, as the
Platonic Sokrates intimates in the Eraste, that the second-best,
or theorizing reasoner, was a useless man. The theoretical and
critical point of view, with the command of language apt for
explaining and defending it, has a value of its own; distinct
from, yet ultimately modifying and improving, the practical.
And such comprehensive survey and comparison of numerous
objects, without having the attention exclusively fastened or en-
slaved to any one of them, deserves to rank high as a variety of
intelligence—whether it be adopted as the definition of a philo-
sopher, or not.

Plato undoubtedly did not conceive the definition of the
philosopher in the same way as Sokrates. The close ;
of the Erastz is employed in opening a distant and ~—<that the
dim view of the Platonic conception. We are given Philosopher
to understand, that the philosopher has a province of vince
his own, wherein he is not second-best, but a first-rate heen a
‘actor and adviser. To indicate, in many different distinct
ways, that there is or must be such a peculiar, apper- specialties
taining to philosophy—distinct from, though analo- gm@y i"
gous to, the peculiar of each several art—is one lead- regal or po-
ing purpose in many Platonic dialogues. But what
is the peculiar of the philosopher? Here, as elsewhere, it is
marked out in a sort of misty outline, not as by one who already
knows and is familiar with it, but as one who is trying to find
it without being sure that he has succeeded. Here, we have it
described as the art of discriminating good from evil, governing,
and applying penal sanctions rightly. This is the supreme art or

1The πένταθλος or ὕπακρος, Whom ἕκαστος δὲ κρένει καλῶς ἃ γιγνώσκει,
Plato criticises in this dialogue, coin- καὶ τούτων ἐστὶν ἀγαθὸς κριτής - καθ
cides with what Aristotle calls ‘“‘the ἕκαστον ἄρα, ὃ πεπαιδευμένον. ἁπλῶς δέ,
man of universal education or cul- ὁ περὶ πᾶν πεπαιδευμένος. ,
ture”.—Ethic. Nikem. I i. 1096, 8. 1.

120 ERASTZ OR ANTERASTA. Cap. XVI.

science, of which the philosopher is the professor ; and in which,
far from requiring advice from others, he is the only person com-
petent both to advise and to act: the art which exercises control
over all other special arts, directing how far, and on what occa-
sions, each of them comes into appliance. It is philosophy,
looked at in one of its two aspects: not as a body of speculative
truth, to be debated, proved, and discriminated from what cannot
_be proved or can be disproved—but as a critical judgment bear-
ing on actual life, prescribing rules or giving directions in par-
ticular cases, with a view to the attainment of foreknown ends,
recognised as expetenda.'. This is what Plato understands by the
measuring or calculating art, the regal or political art, according
as we use the language of the Protagoras, Politikus, Euthydémus,
Republic. Both justice and sobriety are branches of this art ;
and the distinction between the two loses its importance when
the art is considered as a whole—as we find both in the Eraste

and in the Republic.’
Here, in the Eraste, this conception of the philosopher as the
supreme artist controlling all other artists, is darkly

Pi hilosopher indicated and crudely sketched. We shall find the
preme same conception more elaborately illustrated in other
trolling dialogues; yet never passing out of that state of
other dreamy grandeur which characterises Plato as an

expositor.

ΕἼΘ difference between ath second
explanation of philosophy and the third
explanation, shggested 1a th Ἢ Eraste,

be found to coincide e pretty nearly
with the distinction - which Aristotle
takes much pains to draw between
σοφία and φρόνησις. —Ethic. Nikomach.

vi 5, Pp. 1140-1141; also Ethic. Magn.
i. pp. 1197-1198.

2 See Republic, iv. 488 A; G
526 C; Charmidés, 164 B; and Hein-
dorf's note on the passage in the Char-

Crap. XVI, APPENDIX. 121

APPENDIX.

This is one of the dialogues declared to be spurious by Schleiermacher,
Ast, Socher, and Stallbaum,—all of them critics of the present century.
In my judgment, their grounds for such declaration are-altogether in-
conclusive, They think the dialogue an inferior composition, unworthy
of Plato; and they accordingly find reasons, more or less ingenious,
for relieving Plato from the discredit of it. Ido not think so meanly
of the dialogue as they do; but even if I did, I should not pronounce
it to be spurious, without some evidence bearing upon that special
question. No such evidence, of any value, is produced.

It is indeed contended, on the authority of a passage in Diogenes
{ix. 37), that Thrasyllus himself doubted of the authenticity of the
Eraste. The passage is as’ follows, in his life of Demokritus—eitzep
οἱ ᾿Αντερασταὶ Πλάτωνός εἶσι, φησὶ Θράσυλλος, οὗτος ἂν εἴη ὁ
παραγενόμενος ἀνώνυμος, τῶν περὶ Οἰνοπίδην καὶ ᾿Αναξαγόραν ἕτερος,
ἐν τῇ πρὸς Σωκράτην ὁμιλίᾳ διαλεγόμενος περὶ φιλοσοφίας - ᾧ, φησίν,
ὡς πεντάθλῳ ἔοικεν ὁ φιλόσοφος " καὶ ἦν ὡς ἀληθῶς ἐν φιλοσοφίᾳ
πένταθλος (Demokritus).

Now in the first place, Schleiermacher and Stallbaum both declare
that Thrasyllus can never have said that which Diogenes here makes
him say (Schleierm. p. 519; Stallbaum, Prolegg. ad. Erast. p. 266,
and not. Ὁ. 278).

Next, it is certain that Thrasyllus did consider it the undoubted
work of Plato, for he enrolled it in his classification, as the third dia-
logue in the fourth tetralogy (Diog. L. iii. 59).

Yxem, who defends the genuineness of the Eraste (Ueber Platon’s
Kleitophon, pp. 6-7, Berlin, 1846), insists very properly on this point;
not merely as an important fact’in itself, but as determining the sense
of the words εἴπερ of ᾿Αντερασταὶ Πλάτωνός εἶσι, and as showing
that the words rather affirm, than deny, the authenticity of the dia-
logue. ‘‘If the Anteraste are the work of Plato, as they are universally
admitted to be.” Youmust supply the parenthesis in this way, in order
to make Thrasyllus consistent with himself. Yxem cites a passage

122 ERASTZ OR ANTERAST&. CHaPp. XVL

from Galen, in which εἴπερ is used, and in which the parenthesis must
be supplied in the way indicated: no doubt at all being meant to be
hinted. And I will produce another passage out of Diogenes himself,
where εἴπερ is used in the same way ; not as intended to convey the
smallest doubt, but merely introducing the premiss for a conclusion
immediately following. Diogenes says, respecting the Platonic Ideas,
εἴπερ ἐστὶ μνήμη, τὰς ἰδέας ἐν τοῖς οὖσιν ὑπάρχειν (iii. 15). He does
not intend to suggest any doubt whether there be such a fact as
memory. Εἴπερ is sometimes the equivalent of ἐπειδήπερ : as we
learn from Hermann ad Viger. VIII. 6, p. 512.

There is therefore no fair ground for supposing that Thrasyllus
doubted the genuineness of the Eraste. And when I read what modern
critics say in support of their verdict of condemnation, I feel the more
authorised in dissenting from it. I will cite a passage or two from
Stallbaum.

Stallbaum begins his Prolegomena as follows, pp. 205-206: ‘‘Quan-
quam hic libellus genus dicendi habet purum, castum, elegans, nihil
ut inveniri queat quod ἃ Platonis aut Xenophontis eleganti& abhorreat
—tamen quin ἃ Boeckhio, Schleiermachero, Astio, Sochero, Knebelio,
aliis jure meritoque pro suppositicio habitus sit, haudquaquam dubi-
tamus. Est enim materia operis adeo non ad Platonis mentem ration-
emque elaborata, ut potius cuivis alii Socraticoram quam huic recté
adscribi posse videatur.”’

After stating that the Eraste may be divided into two principal
sections, Stallbaum proceeds :—‘‘ Neutra harum partium ita tractata
est, ut nihil desideretur, quod ad justam argumenti explicationem
merito requiras—nihil inculcatum reperiatur, quod vel alio modo illus-
tratum vel omnino omissum esse cupias ”. |

I call attention to this sentence as a fair specimen of.the grounds
upon which the Platonic critics proceed when they strike dialogues out
of the Platonic Canon. If there be anything wanting in it which is
required for what they consider a proper setting forth of the argument
—if there be anything which they would desire to see omitted or other-
wise illustrated—this is with them a reason for deciding that it is not
Plato’s work. That is, if there be any defects in it of any kind, it
cannot be admitted as Plato’s work ;—his genuine works have no defects.
I protest altogether against this ratio decidendi. If I acknowledged it
and applied it consistently I should strike out every dialogue in the
Canon. Certainly, the presumption in favour of the Catalogue of
Thrasyllus must be counted as nil, if it will not outweigh such feeble
counter-arguments as these.

Cap. XVI. APPENDIX. 123

One reason given by Stallbaum for considering the Eraste as spurious
is, that the Sophists are not derided in it. ‘‘Quis est igitur, qui
Platonem sibi persuadeat illos non fuisse castigaturum, et omnino non
significaturum, quinam illi essent, adversus quos hanc disputationem
instituisset ?” It is strange to be called on by learned men to strike
out all dialogues from the Canon in which there is no derisior of the
Sophists. Such derision exists already in excess: we hear until we
are tired how mean it is to receive money for lecturing. Again, Stall-
baum says that the persons whose opinions are here attacked are not
specified by name. But who are the εἰδῶν φίλοι attacked in the
Sophistés? They are not specified by name, and critics differ as to
the persons intended.

124 ION. Cuap. XVIL

CHAPTER XVIL
ION.

The dialogue called Ion is carried on between Sokrates and the
Ion. Per- Ephesian rhapsode Ion. It is among those disallowed
Sinlogues” by Ast, first faintly defended, afterwards disallowed,
ΑΗ by Schleiermacher,! and treated contemptuously by
among mo- both. Subsequent critics, Hermann, 2 Stallbaum,
dern critics Steinhart, consider it as genuine, yet as an inferior
genuineness. production, of little worth, and belonging to Plato’s
earliest years.

T hold it to be genuine, and it may be comparatively early ;
but I see no ground for the disparaging criticism
asa class Which has often been applied to it. The personage
in Greece. whom it introduces to us as subjected to the cross-exa-
peted for mination of Sokrates is a rhapsode of celebrity ; one
prizes at the among a class of artists at that time both useful and
Tonhas been esteemed. They recited or sang,* with appropriate
accent and gesture, the compositions of Homer and of
other epic poets: thus serving to the Grecian epic, the same pur-
pose as the actors served to the dramatic, and the harp-singers
(κιθαρῳδοὶ) to the lyric. There were various solemn festivals
such as that of Asculapius at Epidaurus, and (most especially)
the Panathenea at Athens, where prizes were awarded for the
competition of the rhapsodes. Ion is described as having com-
peted triumphantly in the festival at Epidaurus, and carried off
the first prize. He appeared there in a splendid costume, crowned

1 Schlefermacher, Einleit. zam ton, der Plat. Phil. pp. 487-488; Steinhart,
261-266 ; Ast, Leben und Schriften FEinleitung, p. 15.
aed Platon, p . 406. 3 disor” word ἀδειν is in this

2K. F. Hermann, Gesch. und Syst. dial ogue (582 δι βδό A) applied to tne

Cirap. XVII. THE RHAPSODES. 125

with a golden wreath, amidst a crowd which is described as con-
taining more than 20,000 persons. 1

Much of the acquaintance of cultivated Greeks with Homer
and the other epic poets was both acquired and Functions
maintained through such rhapsodes; the best of oftheRhap-
whom contended at the festivals, while others, less prin ia ;

highly gifted as to vocal power and gesticulation, Exposition
gave separate declamations and lectures of their own, Arbiteey
and even private lessons to individuals? Euthy- ¢reisition
démus, in one of the Xenophontic conversations with was then
Sokrates, and Antisthenes in the Xenophontic Sym- frequent.
posion, are made to declare that the rhapsodes as a class were
extremely silly. This, if true at all, can apply only to the
expositions and comments with which they accompanied their
recital of Homer and other poets. Moreover we cannot reason-
ably set it down (though some modern critics do so) as so much
incontestable truth : we must consider it as an opinion delivered
by one of the speakers in the conversation, but not necessarily
well founded. Unquestionably, the comments made upon
Homer (both in that age and afterwards) were often fanciful and
misleading. Metrodorus, Anaxagoras, and others, resolved the
Homeric narrative into various allegories, physical, ethical, and
theological: and most men who had an opinion to defend,
rejoiced to be able to support or enforce it by some passages of
Homer, well or ill-explained—just as texts of the Bible are
quoted in modern times. In this manner, Homer was pressed
into the service of every disputant; and the Homeric poems
were presented as containing, or at least as implying, doctrines
quite foreign to the age in which they were composed.*

The Rhapsodes, in so far as they interpreted Homer, were

1 Plato, Ion, 585 Ὁ. himself, which is not the fact (Stein-

hart, Einleitung, p. 8
wae ee G Niksratas C'piogones ‘Lasrt i, 11; Nitesch,
n y ly every day. He professes to be Die Heldensage der Griechen, pp. 74-
nen 78; Lobeck, Aglaophamus, p. 15

able to repeat th the Hliad and the Seneca, Epistol. 88: “ modo Stoicum
Odyssey from memory. Homerum faciunt—modo Epicureum
3 Xen. Mem. iv. 2, 10; Sympos. iii. . . . modo Peripateticum, t ΠΟΙΆ,
6; Plato, Ion, 530 E. bonorum inducentem: modo Acade-
ει, βύοϊαβατε cites this pudement about ‘micum, incerta omnia dicentem. Ap-

© Thapsodes 85 had been pro- t nihil horam esse in illo, cui omnia
now by the Xenophontic Sokrates insunt: ista enim inter se dissident.”

126 ION. Cuap. XVII.

The popu- probably not less disposed than others to discover in
larity c¢the him their own fancies. But the character in which
Rha Rhiefly they acquired most popularity, was, not as expositors,
derived ἐς but as reciters, of the poems. The powerful emotion
recitation. Which, in the process of reciting, they both felt them-
Fowerful .. selves, and communicated to their auditors, is de-
they pro- clared in this dialogue: “ When that which I recite
" is pathetic (says Ion), my eyes are filled with tears:
when it is awful or terrible, my hair stands on end, and my
heart leaps. Moreover I see the spectators also weeping,
᾿ sympathising with my emotions, and looking aghast at what they
hear.”+ This assertion of the vehement emotional effect pro-
duced by the words of the poet as declaimed or sung by the
rhapsode, deserves all the more credit—because Plato himself, far
from looking upon it favourably, either derides or disapproves it.
Accepting it as a matter of fact, we see that the influence of
rhapsodes, among auditors generally, must have been derived
mere from their efficacy as actors than from their ability as
expositors.

Ion however is described in this dialogue as combining the
Ion both 0 functions of reciter and expositor: a partnership
reciterand like that of Garrick and Johnson, in regard to Shak-
Homet was sgpeare. It is in the last of the two functions, that
moreasan Sokrates here examines him: considering Homer, not
instructor as a poet appealing to the emotions of hearers, but as
poet. a teacher administering lessons and imparting in-
struction. Such was the view of Homer entertained by a large
proportion of the Hellenic world. In that capacity, his poems
served as a theme for rhapsodes, as well as for various philo-
sophers and Sophists who were not rhapsodes, nor accomplished
reciters.

The reader must keep in mind, in following the questions put
Plato disre- by Sokrates, that this pedagogic and edifying view of
gards and Homer is the only one present to the men of the
the boetic, SOkratic school—and especially to Plato. Of the
woking genuine functions of the gifted poet, who touches the

' chords of strong and diversified emotion —“ qui

The ‘Aeeceiption here givon is the Moot wroduced by ἂν ον

more interesting because it is the only representations.

Cuap. XVII. ION RECITED HOMER ONLY. 127

‘pectus inaniter angit, Irritat, mulcet, falsis terroribus implet ”
(Horat. Epist. II. 1, 212)—Plato takes no account: or rather, he
declares open war against them, either as childish delusions’, or
as mischievous stimulants, tending to exalt the unruly elements
of the mind, and to overthrow the sovereign authority of reason.
We shall find farther manifestations on this point in the Republic

and Leges.
Ton professes to have devoted himself to the study of Homer

exclusively, neglecting other poets: so that he can
interpret the thoughts, and furnish reflections upon
them, better than any other expositor.2 How does it
happen (asked Sokrates) that you have 80 much to say
about Homer, and nothing at all about other poets?
Homer may be the best of all poets: but he is still
only one of those who exercise thé poetic art, and he
must necessarily talk about the same subjects as other
poets. Now the art of poetry is One altogether—like
that of painting, sculpture, playing on the flute,
playing on the harp, rhapsodizing, ἃς. Whoever is

Ion devoted
himself to
Homer ex-
clusively.
Questions of
Sokrates to
him—How
ppens it
that you
cannot talk
equally
upon other
poets? The

poetic art is
one.

competent

to judge and explain one artist,—what he has done well and
what he has done ill,—is competent also to judge any other artist
in the same profession.

Ι cannot explain to you how it happens (replies Jon): I only
know the fact incontestably—that when I talk about Homer, my
thoughts flow abundantly, and every one tells me that my dis-
course is excellent. Quite the reverse, when I talk of any other

poet.¢

I can explain it (says Sokrates). Your talent in expounding

Homer is not an art, acquired by system and method
—otherwise it would have been applicable to other
poets besides. It is a special gift, imparted to you by
divine power and inspiration. The like is true of the
poet whom youexpound. His genius does not spring
from art, system, or method : it is a special gift ema-

1The question of Sokrates (Ion, τικὴ γάρ πού ἐστι τὸ ὅλον
585 D), about the emotion produced in ἐπειδὰν λάβῃ τις καὶ
the hearers by the recital of Homer's ἡντινοῦν ὅλην, ὃ αὑτὸς
poetry, bears out what is here asserted.

2 Plato, Ion, 536 K..

3 Plato, Ion, 531 A, 682 C-D. ποιη- 4 Plato, Ion, 533 C.

Explana-
tion given
by Sokrates.
Both the
Rhapsode
and the Poet
work, not
by art and

. « « Οὐκοῦν

ἄλλην τέχνην

τρόπος τῆς

σκέψεώς ἐστι περὶ ἁπασῶν τῶν TEXVWY ;

128 ION. CuHap. XVIL

system, but nating from the inspiration of the Muses! A poet is

inspiration. a light, airy, holy, person, who cannot compose verses
are Poets at all, so long as his reason’ remains within him.”

pear peer The Muses take away his reason, substituting in place

ed byin- Οὗ it their own divine inspiration and special impulse,
splration either towards epic, dithyramb, encomiastic hymns,
God. hyporchemata, &c., one or other of these. Each poet
. receives one of these special gifts, but is incompetent for any of
the others: whereas, if their ability had been methodical or
artistic, 10 would have displayed itself in all of them alike. Like
prophets, and deliverers of oracles, these poets have their reason
taken away, and become servants of the Gods.* It is not they
who, bereft of their reason, speak in such sublime strains: it is
the God who speaks to us, and speaks through them. You may
see this by Tynnichus of Chalkis ; who composed his Pan, the
finest of all Psans, which is in every one’s mouth, telling us
himself, that it was the invention of the Muses—but who never
composed anything else worth hearing. It is through this
worthless poet that the God has sung the most sublime hymn :*
for the express purpose of showing us that these fine compositions
are not human performances at all, but divine: and that the poet
is only an interpreter of the Gods, possessed by one or other of
them, as the case may be.

Homer is thus (continues Sokrates) not a man of art or reason,
Analogy of but the interpreter of the Gods; deprived of his
the Magnet, reason, but possessed, inspired, by them. You, Ion,
up byat- are the interpreter of Homer : and the divine inspira-
traction
successive tion, carrying away your reason, is exercised over you
stagesof = through him. It is in this way that the influence of

1 Plato, _ton, 583 E—534 A. πάντες τοντὶ ἔχῃ τὸ κτῆμα, ἀδύνατος. πᾶς ποιεῖν
ἂρ οἵ τε τῶν ἐπῶν ποιηταὶ οἱ ἀγαθοὶ οὐκ ἐστιν ρωπος καὶ Ὁ δὰ εἴν.
ἐκ τέχνης ἀλλ᾽ ἄνθεοι ὄντες καὶ κατεχό- δ Plato, Ion, 584 ιὰ ταῦτα δὲ
μενοι πάντα “ταῦτα τὰ καλὰ λέγουσι ὁ θεὸς ἐξαιρούμενος τούτων τὸν νοῦν
- ποιήματα, καὶ οἱ μελοποιοὶ οἱ ἀγαθοὶ τούτοις χρῆται ὑπηρέταις καὶ τοῖς
ὡσαύτως" ὥσπερ οἱ κορνβαντιῶντες οὐκ σμῳδοις καὶ τοῖς μάντεσι τοῖς θείοις,
Euppoves | ὄντες ὀρχοῦνται, οὕτω καὶ of ἕνα ἡμεῖς οἱ ἀκούοντες εἰδῶμεν, ὅτι οὐχ
μελοποιοὶ οὐκ ἔμφρονες ὄντες τὰ καλὰ οὗτοί εἰσιν οἱ ταῦτα λέγοντες οὕτω
μέλ: ταῦτα ποιοῦσιν, ἂς. πολλοῦ ἄξια, ἀλλ᾽ © θεὸς αὐτός ἐστιν ὁ
lato, Ion, 584 Β. κοῦφον γὰρ λέγων, διὰ τούτων δὲ φθέγγεται πρὸς
ποιητής ἐστι καὶ πτηνὸν καὶ
A καὶ ov πρότερον olds τε ποιεῖν ar Plato, Ion, 534 EB. ταῦτα ἐνδεικνύ-
πρὶν ἄν ἔνθεός τε γένηται καὶ ρὼν μενος ὁ θεὸς ἐξεπίτηδες διὰ τοῦ φανλο-
καὶ ὁ νοῦς μηκέτι ἐν αὐτῷ ἐνῇ ἕως δ᾽ ἂν τάτον ποιητοῦ τὸ κάλλιστον μέλος ἧσεν.

Crap. XVI. THE MAGNET. 129

the Magnet is shown, attracting and holding up succes- iron rin
sive stages of iron rings.! The first ring is in contact first inspire
with the Magnet iteelf: the second is suspended to set throeae
the first, the third to the second, and so on. The tim and. in
attractive influence of the Magnet is thus transmitted upon the
through a succession of different rings, so as to keep *™ditors.
suspended several which are a good way removed from itself.
So the influence of the Gods is exerted directly and immediately
upon Homer: through him, it passes by a second stage to you:
through him and you, it passes by a third stage to those auditors
~ whom you so powerfully affect and delight, becoming however
comparatively enfeebled at each stage of transition.

The passage and comparison here given by Sokrates—remark-
able as an early description of the working of the
Magnet—forms the central point or kernel of the rison forms
dialogue called Ion. It is an expansion of a judg- joint of the
ment delivered by Sokrates himself in his Apology to feaoene xt
the Dikasts, and it is repeated in more than one place sion of a
by Plato? Sokrates declares in his Apology that he dufardby
had applied his testing cross-examination to several Sokrates in
excellent poets; and that finding them unable to give
any rational account of their own compositions, he concluded
that they composed without any wisdom of their own, under the
same inspiration as prophets and declarers of oracles. In the
dialogue before us, this thought is strikingly illustrated and
amplified.

The contrast between systematic, professional, procedure, de-
liberately taught and consciously acquired, capable Platonic an-
of being defended at every step by appeal to intel- Sr eneatic
ligible rules founded upon scientific theory, and procedure
enabling the person so qualified to impart his quali- ed from un-
fication to others—and a different procedure purely S);*h inter
impulsive and unthinking, whereby the agent, having was either
in his mind a conception of the end aimed at, proceeds tine, or
from one intermediate step to another, without know- nshired by
ing why he does so or how he has come to do so, and the Gods.

the Apology.

1 Plato, Ion, 538 D-E.
2 Plato, Apol. Sokr. p. 22D; Plato, Menon, Ὁ. 99 Ὁ.

2—9

130 ION. UHap. XVIL

Varieties of without being able to explain his practice if ques-
good an tioned or to impart it to others—this contrast is a
favourite one with Plato. The last-mentioned pro-
cedure—the unphilosophical or irrational—he conceives under
different aspects : sometimes as a blind routine or insensibly ac-
quired habit,! sometimes as a stimulus applied from without by
some God, superseding the reason of the individual. Such a con-
dition Plato calls madness, and he considers those under it as
persons out of their senses. But he recognises different varieties
of madness, according to the God from whom it came: the bad
madness was a disastrous visitation and distemper—the good
madness was ἃ privilege and blessing, an inspiration superior to
human reason. Among these privileged madmen he reckoned
prophets and poets; another variety under the same genus, is,
that mental love, between a well-trained adult, and a beautiful,
intelligent, youth, which he regards as the most exalted of all
human emotions.? In the Ion, this idea of a privileged madness
—inspiration from the Gods superseding reason—is applied not
only to the poet, but also to the rhapsode who recites the poem,
and even to the auditors whom he addresses. The poet receives
the inspiration directly from the Gods: he inoculates the rhap-
sode with it, who again inoculates the auditors—the fervour is,
at each successive communication, diminished. The auditor
represents the last of the rings ; held in suspension, through the
intermediate agency of other rings, by the inherent force of the
magnet.®
We must remember, that privileged communications from the
Special in. Gods to men, and special persons recipient thereof,
epiration were acknowledged and witnessed everywhere as a
was constant phenomenon of Grecian life. There were
fact in Gre. 20t only numerous oracular temples, which every one
cian life. could visit to ask questions in matters of doubt—but
communica- also favoured persons who had received from the
tho Golsto Gods the gift of predicting the future, of interpreting
Sokrates— omens, of determining the good or bad indications

1 Plato, Phesdon, 82 A ; Gorgias, 468 aoe Plate Don 244-245-249 D.
A, 465 A. on, 5385 Ἐς οὗτός ἐστιν ὁ
᾿Δ This doctrine is set forth at length θεατὴς τῶν δακτυλίων ὁ ἔσχατος ..
by Sokrates in the Platonic Phsedrus, ὁ δὲ μέσος σὺ ὁ ῥαψῳδὸς καὶ ὑποκριτὴς,
in the second discourse of Sokrates ὁ δὲ πρῶτος, αὐτὸς ὁ ποιητής

Guar. XVIL SPECIAL INSPIRATION. 131

furnished by animals sacrificed! In every town or his firm be-
village—or wherever any body of men were assembled ef ™ them.
—there were always persons who prophesied or delivered oracles,
and to whom special revelations were believed to be vouchsafed,
during periods of anxiety. No one was more familiar with this
fact than the Sokratic disciples: for Sokrates himself had perhaps
a greater number of special communications from the Gods than
any man of his age : his divine sign having begun when he was
a child, and continuing to move him frequently, even upon small
matters, until his death: though the revelations were for the
most part negative, not affirmative—telling him often what was
not to be done—seldom what was to be done—resembling in this
respect his own dialogues with other persons. Moreover Sokrates
inculcated upon his friends emphatically, that they ought to have
constant recourse to prophecy: that none but impious men
neglected to do so: that the benevolence of the Gods was no-
where more conspicuous than in their furnishing such special
revelations and warnings, to persons whom they favoured : that
the Gods administered the affairs of the world partly upon
principles of regular sequence, so that men by diligent study
might learn what they were to expect,—but partly also, and by
design, in ἃ manner irregular and undecypherable, such that it
could not be fathomed by any human study, and could not be
understood except through direct and special revelation from
themselves.?

Here, as well as elsewhere, Plato places inspiration, both of the
prophet and the poet, in marked contrast with reason Condition of
and intelligence. Reason is supposed to be for the *he inspired

rson—his
time withdrawn or abolished, and inspiration is intro- reason is for

1 Not only the χρησμολόγοι, μάντεις, Ἄλλον μάντιν ἔθηκεν ἄναξ ἑκάεργος

oracular temples, &c., are often men- ᾿Απόλλων;
tioned in erodotus, Thucydides, ἔγνω δ᾽ ἀνδρὶ κακὸν τηλόθεν ἐρχό-
Xenophon, &., but Aristotle also re- νον, ἄς.

οἱ νυμφόληπτοι καὶ θεόληπτοι 2 These views of Sokrates are de-
τῶν ἀνθρώπων, ἐπιπνοίᾳ δαιμονίον τινὸς clared in the Memorabilia of Xenophon,
ὥσπερ ἐνθουσιάζοντες, a8 & and i. 1, 6-10; i. 4, 2-18; iv. 3,
known class persons. See Ethic. It isp m Xenophon (Mem. i.
rgd a. 23; Ethic. Magna, 1, 8) that persons were offended
ii. 1207

with Sokrates they believed—
recognised profession, or at least because he aflirmed—that
ttof res not merely according he received more numerous and special

ws rding to Solon revelations from the Gods than any
(Prag. at one else.

132 ION. Cuap. XVII.

thetime duced by the Gods into its place. “ When Monarch

Reason sleeps, this mimic wakes.” The person in-
spired (prophet or poet) becomes for the time the organ of an
extraneous agency, speaking what he neither originates nor
understands. The genuine gift of prophecy? (Plato says) attaches
only to a disabled, enfeebled, distempered, condition of the intel-
ligence ; the gift of poetry is conferred by the Gods upon the -
-‘most inferior men, as we see by the case of Tynnichus—whose
sublime pzan shows us, that it is the Gods alone who utter fine
poetry through the organs of a person himself thoroughly incom-
petent.

It is thus that Plato, setting before himself a process of syste-
Fon does not matised reason,—originating in a superior intellect,
admit him. laying down universal principles and deducing conse-
self to b tobe = quences from them—capable of being consistently
nd outof applied, designedly taught, and defended against ob-

jections—enumerates the various mental conditions
opposed to it, and ranks inspiration as one of them.. In this dia-
logue, Sokrates seeks to prove that the success of Ion as a rhap-
sode depends upon his being out of his mind or inspired. But
Ton does not accept the compliment : Jon.—You speak well, So-
krates ; but I should be surprised if you spoke well enough to
create in me the new conviction, that Iam possessed and mad
when I eulogize Homer. I do not think that you would even
yourself say so, if you heard me discourse on the subject.*

Sokr.—But Homer talks upon all subjects. Upon which of
Homertalks them can you discourse? Jon.—Upon all. Sokr.—
fete ston Not surely upon such as belong to special arts, pro-
competent feasions, Each portion of the matter of knowledge is
whatHomer included under some special art, and is known through
oer then? that art by those who possess it. Thus, you and 1,
Rhapeodic both of us, know the number of our fingers; we know
art. wat it through the same art, which both of us possess—
vincet the arithmetical. But Homer talks of matters be-

1 Plato, Timeus, ΤΙ EB. ἑκανὸν δὲ Compare Plato, Menon, pp. 90-100.
σημεῖον ὡς μαντικὴν ἀφροσύνῃ θεὸς οἱ Χρησμῳδοί τε καὶ οἱ θεομάντεις -
ἀνθρωπίνῃ δέδωκεν, οὐδεὶς γὰρ ἔννους oer ἃς μὲν ἀληθῆ καὶ πολλὰ ἴσασι

Ἵ ia οὐδὲν ὧν πλένονσι. Compare ‘opiate,
ἀλλ ἢ καθ᾽ ay ha ΟΣ φρονήσεως Legg. iv. 71
πεδηθεὶς δύναμιν, " Gov ἥ τινα
ἐνθουσιασμὸν παραλλά 2 Plato, Ton, 536 E.

Crap. XVIL. RHAPSODIC ART. 133

longing to many different. arts or occupations, that of the phy-
sician, the charioteer, the fisherman, ἄς. You cannot know
these ; since you do not belong to any of these professions, but
are arhapsode. Describe to me what are the matters included
in the rhapsodic art. The rhapsodic art is one art by itself, dis-
tinct from the medical and others : it cannot know every thing ;
tell me what matters come under its special province.) Jon.—
The rhapsodic art does not know what belongs to any one of the
other special arts: but that of which it takes cognizance, and
that which I know, is, what is becoming and suitable to each
variety of character described by Homer : to a man or woman—
to a freeman or slave—to the commander who gives orders or to
the subordinate who obeys them, ἄς. This is what belongs to
the peculiar province of the rhapsode to appreciate and under-
stand.? Sokr.—Will the rhapsode know what is suitable for the
commander of a ship to say to his seamen, during a dangerous
storm, better than the pilot? Will the rhapsode know what is
suitable for one who gives directions about the treatment of a
sick man, better than the physician? Will the rhapsode know
what is suitable to be said by the herdsman when the cattle are
savage and distracted, or to the female slaves when busy in spin-
ning ? Zon.—No: the rhapsode will not know these things so well
as the pilot, the physician, the grazier, the mistress, δος. Sokr.
—Will the rhapsode know what is suitable for the military com-
mander to say, when he is exhorting his soldiers? Jon.—Yes :
the rhapsode will know this well: at least I know it well.
Sokr.—Perhaps, Ion, you are not merely a rhapsode, but possess
also the competence for being a general. If you know The rhap-
matters belonging to military command, do you know not know
them in your capacity of general, or in your capacity Spears,
of rhapsode? Jon.—I think there is no difference. such as the
Sokr.—How say you? Do you affirm that the rhap- pilot, phy-
sodic art, and the strategic art, are one? Jon.—I sician, far-
think they are one. Sokr.—Then whosoever is a good but he
rhapsode, is also a good general? Jon.—Unquestion- business of of
ably. Sokr.—And of course, whoever is a good general, the general,

4 2 Plate’ ton, 688 589. & ψοδῷ παρὰ τοὺς ἄλλους ἀνθρώπους, 639 Εἰ,
son, τῷ pa ᾿
προσήκει καὶ σκοπεῖσθαι καὶ διακρίνειν 3 Plato, Ion, 540 B-C.

134 ION. Crap. XVII.

petentto is alsoa good rhapsode? Ion.—No: I do not think that.
soldiers, Sokr.—But you do maintain, that whosoever is a good
having = rhapeode, is also a good general ἢ Ion.—Decidedly.
from Sokr.—You are yourself the best rhapsode in Greece ?
Ion.—By far. Sokr.—Are you then also the best
general in Greece? Jon.—Certainly I am, Sokrates: and that
too, by having learnt it from Homer.!

After putting a question or two, not very forcible, to ask how
it happens that Jon, being an excellent general, does not obtain a
military appointment from Athens, Sparta, or some other city,
Sokrates winds up the dialogue as follows :—

Well, Ion, if it be really true that you possess a rational and
Conclusion. intelligent competence to illustrate the beauties of
Ion ex- Homer, you wrong and deceive me, because after pro-

ae, not mising to deliver to me a fine discourse about Homer,
pith any , you will not even comply with my preliminary en-
of what he treaty—that you will first tell me what those matters
ein. are, on which your superiority bears. You twist
spiration, every way like Proteus, until at last you slip through
my fingers and appear as a general. If your powers of expound-
ing Homer depend on art and intelligence, you are a wrong-doer
and deceiver, for not fulfiling your promise to me. But you are
not chargeable with wrong, if the fact be as I say ; that is, if you
know nothing about Homer, but are only able to discourse upon
him finely and abundantly, through a divine inspiration with
which you are possessed by him. Choose whether you wish me
to regard you as a promise-breaker, or asa divine man. Jon.—I
choose the last: it is much better to be regarded as a divine
man.?

It seems strange to read such language put into Ion’s mouth

The gene- (we are not warranted in regarding it as what any
rals in rhapsode ever did say), as the affirmation—that every
usually pos- good rhapsode was also a good general, and that he

1 Plato, Ion, 540 D—641 B. κατεχόμενος ἐξ Ὁμήρον μηδὲν εἰδὼς

2 Plato, Ion, 641 E—642 A. εἰ μὲν πολλὰ καὶ καλὰ λέγεις περὶ τοῦ ποιητοῦ,
ἀληθὴ λέγεις, ὡς τέχνῃ καὶ ἐπιστήμῃ ὥσπερ ἐγὼ εἶπον περὶ σοῦ, οὐδὲν ἀδικεῖς -
οἷός τε εἶ Ὅμηρον ἐπαινεῖν, ἀδικεῖς... ἑλοῦ οὖν, πότερα βούλει νομίζεσθαι ὑφ᾽
εἰ δὲ μὴ τεχνικὸς εἶ, ἀλλὰ θείᾳ μοίρᾳ ἡμῶν ἄδικος ἀνὴρ εἶναι ἣ θεῖος.

παρ. XVIL POETS REGARDED AS TEACHERS. 135

had become the best of generals simply through com- sessed no
plete acquaintance with Homer. But this is only a rience
caricature of a sentiment largely prevalent at Athens, 7a;
according to which the works of the poets, especially poets were
the Homeric poems, were supposed to be a mine of the great
varied instruction, and were taught as such to youth.) ‘echers—
In Greece, the general was not often required (except of the poet,
at Sparta, and not always even there) to possess pro- ing to know
fessional experience.? Sokrates, in one of the Xeno- everything,
phontic conversations, tries to persuade Nikomachides, knowing

a practised soldier (who had failed in getting himself nothing.
elected general, because a successful Chorégus had been preferred
to him), how much the qualities of an effective Chorégus coin-
cided with those of an effective general. The poet Sophokles
was named by the Athenians one of the generals of the very im-
portant armament for reconquering Samos: though Perikles, one
of his colleagues, as well as his contemporary Ion of Chios, de-
clared that he was an excellent poet, but knew nothing of
generalship.* Plato frequently seeks to make it evident how
little the qualities required for governing numbers, either civil
or military, were made matter of professional study or special
teaching. The picture of Homer conveyed in the tenth book of
the Platonic Republic is, that of a man who pretends to know

1 Aristophan. Ranz, 1082. oy aes πλεῖστοι αὐτοσχεδιάζουσιν.
iii. 5, 24.
᾿Ορφεὺς μὲν γὰρ τελετάς θ᾽ ἡμῖν κατέ- Com respecting the generals,
δειξε ὄνων τ᾽ ἀπέχεσθαι the riking ines of Euripid
Μουσαῖος δ᾽ ἐξακέσεις τες νόσων καὶ Ghere Ch 498, and | πὰρ Oty espe! oO
χρησμούς, Ἡσίοδος icero em. Prior. respectin
Τῆς ἐργασίας, καρπῶν ὥρας, apérovs: ὁ the quickness and facility with which
ἦς θεῖος Ὅμηρος Lucullus made himself an excellent

"Awd τοῦ τιμὴν Kat κλέος ἔσχεν, πλὴν eral. . . ..
τοῦδ᾽, Ore χρήστ᾽ ἐδίδαξε, 8 Χοη. Mem. iii. 4, especially iii.
Τάξεις, ἀρετάς, ὁπλίσεις ἀνδρῶν; .... 4, 6, where Nikomachides asks with
"AAN’ ἄλλους τοι πολλοὺς ἀγαθοὺς (ἐδί- surprise, λέγεις σύ, ὦ Σώκρατες, ws τοῦ
δαξεν), ὧν ἦν καὶ Λάμαχος ἥρως. αὐτοῦ ἀνδρός ἐστι χορηγεῖν τε καλῶς καὶ
στρα ιν;
See these views combated by Plato, 4 Sen. the very curious extract from
Republ. x. 599-600-606 E. the contemporary Ion of Chios, in
he exaggerated pretension here Athenszeus, xiii. 604. Aristophanes of
ascribed to [on makes him look con- Byzantiom says that the appointment
temptible—like the sentiment ascribed of Sophokles to this military function
to ἢ “ 535 Qe If I make the guditors (about B.C. 440) arose from the extra
weep, I my shall laugh an et ordinary popu Ὁ tragedy
money," ἂς. ἡ po Antigoné, oeibited a little time be-
2 Xenoph. Memor. iii. 5, 21, in the fore. See Boeckh’s valuable ‘Disser-
conversation between the younger tation on the Antigoné,’ appended to
Perikles and Sokrates—ray δὲ orpa- his edition thereof, pp. 121-124.

136 ION. CaaP. XVIL

everything, but really knows nothing: an imitative artist, re-
moved by two stages from truth and reality,—who gives the
shadows of shadows, resembling only enough to satisfy an
ignorant crowd. This is the picture there presented of poets
generally, and of Homer as the best among them. The rhapsode
Ion is here brought under the same category as the poet Homer,
whom he has by heart and recites. The whole field of know-
ledge is assumed to be distributed among various specialties, not
one of which either of the two can claim. Accordingly, both of
them under the mask of universal knowledge, conceal the reality
of universal ignorance.

Ion is willing enough (as he promises) to exhibit before So-

krates one of his eloquent discourses upon Homer.
opposed to to’. But Sokrates never permits him to arrive at it:
spiration @rresting him always by preliminary questions, and
ΑΝ requiring him to furnish an intelligible description of

the matter which his discourse is intended to embrace,
and thus to distinguish it from other matters left untouched. A
man who cannot comply with this requisition,—who cannot (to
repeat what I said in a previous chapter) stand a Sokratic cross-
examination on the subject—possesses no rational intelligence of
his own proceedings: no art, science, knowledge, system, or
method. If asa practitioner he executes well what he promises
(which is often the case), and attains success—he does so either
by blind imitation of some master, or else under the stimulus
and guidance of some agency foreign to himself—of the Gods or
Fortune.

This is the Platonic point of view; developed in several
different ways and different dialogues, but hardly anywhere
more conspicuously than in the Ion.

I have observed that in this dialogue, Ion is anxious to embark
on his eloquent expository discourse, but Sokrates
of Plato's will not allow him to begin: requiring as a pre-
spectingthe liminary stage that certain preliminary difficulties
uselessness shall be first cleared up. Here we have an illustra-
geometrical tion of Plato’s doctrine, to which I adverted in a

former chapter,|—that no written geometrical treatise

1 Chap. viii. p. 353.

Crap. XVIL TO SIFT LOGICAL DIFFICULTIES. 137

could impart a knowledge of geometry to one ignorant thereof.
The geometrical writer begins by laying down a string of de-
finitions and axioms; and then strikes out boldly in demon-
strating his theorems. But Plato would refuse him the liberty
of striking out, until he should have cleared up the preliminary
difficulties about the definitions and axioms themselves. This
the geometrical treatise does not even attempt.'

1 Compare Plato, Republic, vi. 510 C ; vii. 633 C-D

138 LACHES. Onur. ΧΥΠΙ.

CHAPTER XVIII.
LACHES.

THE main substance of this dialogue consists of a discussion,
carried on by Sokrates with Nikias and Lachés, respecting
Courage. Each of the two latter proposes an explanation of
Courage : Sokratés criticises both of them, and reduces each to
a confessed contradiction.
The discussion is invited, or at least dramatically introduced,
by two elderly men—Lysimachus, son of Aristeides
jotendvon the Just,—and Melésias son of Thucydides the rival
dialog se of Perikles. Lysimachus and Melésias, confessing
Whether it with shame that they are inferior to their fathers,
is useful =~ because their education has been neglected, wish to
young men guard against the same misfortune in the case of their
receive own sons: respecting the education of whom, they
lessonsfrom ask the advice of Nikias and Lachés. The question
of arms. turns especially upon the propriety of causing their
Lachés sons to receive lessons from a master of arms just
differ in then in vogue. Nikias and Lachés, both of them not
merely distinguished citizens but also commanders of
Athenian armies, are assumed to be well qualified to give advice.
Accordingly they deliver their opinions: Nikias approving such
lessons as beneficial, in exalting the courage of a young man,
and rendering him effective on the field of battle: while Lachés
takes an opposite view, disparages the masters of arms as being
no soldiers, and adds that they are despised by the Lacede-
monians, to whose authority on military matters general de-
ference was paid in Greece. Sokratés,—commended greatly by

? Plato, Lachés, 182-183.

CHaP. XVIIL SOKRATES GENERALISES THE QUESTION. 139

Nikias for his acuteness and, sagacity, by Lachés for his courage
in the battle of Delium,—is invited to take part in the consulta-
tion. Being younger than both, he waits till they have delivered
their opinions, and is then called upon to declare with which of
the two his own judgment will concur.

Sokr.—The question must not be determined by a plurality of
votes, but by superiority of knowledge? If we were gokrates is
debating about the proper gymnastic discipline for invited to

; eclare his
these young men, we should consult a known artist opinion. He
or professional trainer, or at least some one who had the point
gone through a course of teaching and practice under cannot be
the trainer. The first thing to be enquired therefore withouta
is, whether, in reference to the point now under dis-
cussion, there be any one of us professionally or tech- Judge
nically competent, who has studied under good masters, and has
proved his own competence as a master by producing well-
trained pupils. The next thing is, to understand clearly what it
is, with reference to which such competence is required.®
Nikvas.—Surely the point before us is, whether it be wise to put
these young men under the lessons of the, master of arms?
That is what we want to know. Sokr.—Doubtless it is: but that
is only one particular branch of a wider and more comprehensive
enquiry. When you are considering whether a particular oint-
ment is good for your eyes, it is your eyes, and their general
benefit, which form the subject of investigation—not the ointment
simply. The person to assist you will be, he who understands
professionally the general treatment of the eyes. So in this case,
you are enquiring whether lessons in arms will be improving for
the minds and character of your sons. Look out therefore for
some one who is professionally competent, from having studied
under good masters, in regard to the general treatment of the
mind.‘ Lachés.—But there are various persons who, without
ever having studied under masters, possess greater technical com-

1 Plato, Lachés, 184 D. 2 Plato, Lachés, 184 E. ἐπιστήμῃ δεῖ

Nikias is made to say that Sokrates κρίνεσθαι ἀλλ᾽ οὐ πλήθει τὸ μέλλον καλῶς
has recently recommended to him κριθήσεσθαι.
Damon, asa teacher οὗ μουσικὴ to his 3 Plato, Lachés,185C. ΝΕ
sons, and that Damon had proved an 4 Plato, Lachés, 185 E. εἴ τις ἡμῶν
admirable teacher as wellascompanion τεχνικὸς περὶ ψυχῆς θεραπείαν, καὶ οἷός
(180 D). Damon is mentioned by Plato τε καλῶς τοῦτο θεραπεῦσαι, καὶ ὅτῳ διδά-
generally with much eulogy. σκαλοι ἀγαθοὶ γεγόνασι, τοῦτο σκεπτέον.

140 LACHES. CHap. XVII:

petence than others who have so studied. Sokr.—There are such:
persons: but you will never believe it upon their own assurance,
unless they can show you some good special work actually per-
formed by themselves.

Sokr.—Now then, Lysimachus, since you have invited Lachés
Those who and Nikias, as well as me, to advise you on the means
ceinon λα of most effectively improving the mind of your son, it
miust begin is for us to show you that we possess competent pro-

theircom. fessional skill respecting the treatment of the youth-

petence ful mind. We must declare to you who are the
udge—

Sokrates masters from whom we have learnt, and we must

avows his prove their qualifications Or if we have had no

petence. masters, we must demonstrate to you our own com-
petence by citing cases of individuals, whom we have successfully
trained, and who have become incontestably good under our care..
If we can fulfil neither of these two conditions, we ought to confess
our incompetence and decline advising you. We must not begin
to try our hands upon so precious a subject as the son of a friend,
at the hazard of doing him more harm than good.!

As to myself, I frankly confess that I have neither had any
master to impart to me such competence, nor have I been able to
acquire it by my own efforts. I am not rich enough to pay the
Sophists, who profess to teach it. But as to Nikias and Lachés,
they are both older and richer than I am : so that they may well
have learnt it from others, or acquired it for themselves. They
must be thoroughly satisfied of their own knowledge on the work
of education ; otherwise they would hardly have given such con-
fident opinions, pronouncing what pursuits are good or bad for
youth. For my part, I trust them implicitly: the only thing
which surprises me, is, that they dissent from each other? It is
for you therefore, Lysimachus, to ask Nikias and Lachés,—Who
have been their masters? Who have been their fellow-pupils?
If they have been their own masters, what proof can they pro-
duce of previous success in teaching, and what examples can they
cite of pupils whom they have converted from bad to good 1 ὅ

1 Plato, Lachés, 186 B. ρῶν, et μὴ αὑτοῖς ἐπίστενον ἱκανῶς εἰδέ-
2 Plato, Lachés, 186 C-D. δοκοῦσι ναι. τὰ μὲν οὖν ἄλλα, τούτοις
δή μοι δννατοὶ εἶναι παιδεῦσαι ἄνθρωπον. πιστεύω, ὅτι δὲ διαφέρεσθον ἀλλήλοιν,
οὗ γὰρ ἄν ποτε ἀδεῶς ἀπεφαίνοντο περὶ ἐθούμασα.
ἐπιτηδευμάτων νέῳ χρηστῶν τε καὶ πονῃ- 3 Plato, Lachés, 186-187.

CHap. XVIIL HOW TO FIND. THE WISE MAN. 141

Nikias.—I knew from the-beginning that’ we should both of us
fall under the cross-examination οὗ Sokrates, and be Nikias and
compelled to give account of our past lives. For my Lachés sub
part, I have already gone through this scrutiny Mit tobe
before, and am not averse to undergo it again. mined by
Lachés.—And I, though I have never experienced it
before, shall willingly submit to learn from Sokrates, whom 1
know to be a man thoroughly courageous and honest in his
actions. I hate men whose lives are inconsistent with their
talk..—Thus speak both of them.

This portion of the dialogue, which forms a sort of preamble to
the main discussion, brings out forcibly some of the 4. of
Platonic points of view. We have seen it laid down them give
in the Kriton—That in questions about right and Open"
wrong, good and evil, &c., we ought not to trust the Ssccording
decision of the Many, but only that of the One Wise feelings on
Man. Here we learn something about the criteria by (Ue*Pecl™!
which this One man may be known.. He must be rates re-
one who has gone through a regular training under he question
some master approved in ethical or educational Foneralised,
teaching : or, if he cannot produce such a certificate, 2nd exa-
he must at least cite sufficient examples of men whom a branch of
he has taught well himself. This is the Sokratic °ducation.
comparison, assimilating the general art of living well to the
requirements of a special profession, which a man must learn
through express teaching, from a master who has proved his
ability, and through conscious application of his own. Nikias
and Lachés give their opinions offhand and confidently, upon the
question whether lessons from the master of arms be profitable
to youth or not. Plato, on the contrary, speaking through
Sokrates, points out that this is only one branch of the more
comprehensive question as to education generally—“ What are
the qualities and habits proper to be imparted to youth by
training? What is the proper treatment of the mind? No one

_ 1 Plato, Lachés, 188. by Cicero out of one of the Latin comic

ες odi νὰ ορετᾷ οἱ et writers.
philosepha homies, gnart 0

142 LACHES, Crap. XVIII.

is competent to decide the special question, except he who has
professionally studied the treatment of the mind.” To deal with
the special question, without such preliminary general prepara-
tion, involves rash and unverified assumptions, which render
any opinion so given dangerous to act upon. Such is the judg-
ment of the Platonic Sokrates, insisting on the necessity of
taking up ethical questions in their most comprehensive aspect.
᾿ς Consequent upon this preamble, we should expect that Lachés
Appealof and Nikias would be made to cite the names of-those
tho jedg- who had been their masters; or to produce some
ment of the examples of persons effectively taught by themselves.
Man. This This would bring us a step nearer to that One Wise
manisnever Man—often darkly indicated, but nowhere named or
identified. brought into daylight—from whom alone we can
receive a trustworthy judgment. But here, as in the Kriton and
so many other Platonic dialogues, we get only a Pisgah view of
our promised adviser—nothing more. The discussion takes a
different turn.

Sokr.—“ We will pursue a line of enquiry which conducts to
the same result, and which starts even more decidedly
know what from the beginning.1 We are called upon to advise
yirtue is, Ἦν what means virtue can be imparted to these
give an youths, so as to make them better men. Of course
ucation. this implies that we know what virtue is: otherwise
whole,is how can we give advice as to the means of acquiring
a it? Lachés—We could give no advice at all. Sokr.

ὁ willen- ---Ἶ affirm ourselves therefore to know what virtue
quire about i,? Lachés.—We do. Sokr.—Since therefore we
of virtue— know, we can farther declare what it is.? Lachés.—
Of course we can. Sokr.—Still, we will not at once
enquire as to the whole of virtue, which might be an arduous
task, but as to a part of it—Courage: that part to which the
lessons of the master of arms are supposed to tend. We will

1 Plato, Lachés, 189 E. καὶ ἡ τοιάδε ὦ Λάχης, εἰδέναι αὑτὸ (τὴν ἀρετὴν) 3, τι
σκέψις εἰς ταὐτὸν φέρει, σχεδὸν δέ τι καὶ ἔστι. Φαμὲν μέντοι. Οὐκοῦν ὃ dopey,

ψᾶλλον ef ἀρχῆς εἴη ἄν. κἂν εἴποιμεν δήπου, τί ἔστι. ὥς
2 Plato, Lachés, 100 C. φαμὲν dpa, οὔ, ᾿ μ“

Cuap. XVIII, EXAMPLE NO SUBSTITUTE FOR DEFINITION. 143

first enquire what courage is: after that has been determined,
we will then consider how it can best be imparted to these
youths.”

“Try then if you can tell me, Lachés, what courage is. Lachés.
—There is no difficulty in telling you that. Whoever keeps his
place in the rank, repels the enemy, and does not run away, is a
courageous man.” }

Here is the same error in replying, as was cc .umitted by Euthy-
phron when asked, What is the Holy? and by Hippias Question,
about the Beautiful. One particular case of courage- ιομῶν 3
ous behaviour, among many, is indicated, as if it were Lachés an-
an explanation of the whole: but the general feature citing one
common to all acts of courage is not declared. So- particularly
krates points out that men are courageous, not merely case of cou-
among hoplites who keep their rank and fight, but fon
also among the Scythian horsemen who fight while τον ἘΝ
running away; others also are courageous against planation.
disease, poverty, political adversity, pain and fear of every sort ;
others moreover, against desires and pleasures. What is the
common attribute which in all these cases constitutes Courage ?
If you asked me what is quickness—common to all those cases
when ἃ man runs, speaks, plays, learns, &c., quickly—I should
tell you that it was that which accomplished much in a little
time. Tell me in like manner, what is the common fact or attri-
bute pervading all cases of courage ?

‘Lachés at first does not understand the question:? and So-
krates elucidates it by giving the parallel explanation of quick-
ness. Here, as elsewhere, Plato takes great pains to impress the
conception in its full generality, and he seems to have found dif-
ficulty in making others follow him.

Lachés then gives a general definition of courage. It is a sort
of endurance of the mind.? Second an-

Surely not all endurance (rejoins Sokrates)? You swer. Cou-
admit that courage is a fine and honourable thint Oendvrance

of endurance

1 Plato, Lachés, 190 D-E. ἀνδρείαν οὕτως εἰπεῖν, τίς οὖσα δύναμις ἡ
3 Plato, Lachés, 191-192. αὐτὴ ev ἡδονῇ καὶ ἐν λύπῃ καὶ ἐν ἅπασιν
πάλιν οὖν πειρῶ εἰπεῖν ἀνδρείαν πρῶ- οἷς νῦν by ἐλέγομεν αὑτὴν εἶναι, ἔπειτ᾽
τον, τί ὃν ἐν πᾶσι τούτοις ταὐτόν ἐστιν. ἀνδρεία κέκληται.
ἣ οὕπω καταμανθάγεις ὃ λέγω; Lachés. Plato, Lachés, 192 B. καρτερία τις
Οὐ πάνυτιι . . . δοῖγ. πειρῶ δὴ τὴν τῆς ψυχῆς.

144 LACHES. Caap. XVOY.

of the mi mind. But endurance without intelligence is hurtful and dis-
pointsout honourable: it cannot therefore be courage. Only
, intelligent endurance, therefore, can be courage. And
and incor. then what is meant by intelligent? Intelligent—of
durance is what—or to what end? A man, who endures the
courage! loss of money, understanding well that he will thereby
even intelli- gain a larger sum, is he courageous? No. He who
gent env endures fighting, knowing that he has euperior skill,
age. numbers, and all other advantages on his side, mani-

fests more of intelligent endurance, than his adversary
who knows that he has all these advantages against him, yet who
nevertheless endures fighting. Nevertheless this latter is the most
courageous of the two.’ Unintelligent endurance is in this case
courage: but unintelligent endurance was acknowledged to be
bad and hurtful, and courage to be a fine thing. We have en-
tangled ourselves in a contradiction. We must at least show our
own courage, by enduring until we can get right. For my part
(replies Lachés) Iam quite prepared for such endurance. I am
piqued and angry that I cannot express what I conceive. Iseem
to have in my mind clearly what courage is: but it escapes me
somehow or other, when 1 try to put it in worda.?

Sokrates now asks aid from Nikias. Nikias—My explana-
tion of courage is, that it is a sort of knowledge or intelligence.
Sokr.—But what sort of intelligence? Not certainly intelligence
of piping or playing the harp. Intelligence of what?

Nikias.—Courage is intelligence of things terrible, and things
not terrible, both in war and in all other conjunc-
Newanswer tures, Lachés.—What nonsense! Courage is a thing
ae σα. totally apart from knowledge or intelligence.* The
eisasort physician knows best what is terrible, and what is not

ence—the terrible, in reference to disease: the husbandman, in
of thisge” reference to agriculture. But they are not for that
terrible and reason courageous. Nikias—They are not; but
Objections neither do they know what is terrible, or what is
of lachés. not terrible. Physicians can predict the result of a

1 Plato, Lachés, 192 D-E. ἡ φρόνιμος 2 Plato, Lachés, 193 C, 194 B.
καρτερία. . δή, ἡ εἰς τί φρότ δ Plato, Lachés, 1065 A. τὴν rev
νιμος" ἣ ἡ eis ἅπαντα καὶ τὰ μεγάλα καὶ δεινῶν καὶ θαῤῥαλέων ἐπιστήμην καὶ ἐν
τὰ ὲ πολέμῳ καὶ ἐν τοῖς ἄλλοις ἅπασιν.

CHap. XVIIL COURAGE RESOLVED INTO INTELLIGENCE. 145

patient’s case: they can tell what may cure him, or what will
kill him. But whether it be better for him to die or to recover
—that they do not know, and cannot tell him. To some persons,
death is a less evil than life :—defeat, than victory :—loss of
wealth, than gain. None except the person who can discriminate
these cases, knows what is really terrible and what is not so. He
alone is really courageous.! Lachés.—Where is there any such
man? It can be only some God. Nikias feels himself in a
puzzle, and instead of confessing it frankly as I have done, he is
trying to help himself out by evasions more fit for a pleader
before the Dikastery. ?

Sokr.—You do not admit, then, Nikias, that lions, tigers, boars,
&c., and such animals, are courageous? Nikias.—No: Questionsof
they are without fear—simply from not knowing the $okratesto -
danger—like children: but they are not courageous, is only fu-
though most people call them so. I may call them fot pasta”
bold, but I reserve the epithet courageous for the in- Present,
telligent. Lachés.—See how Nikias strips those, whom terrible. _
every one admits to be courageous, of this honourable gence of fu-
appellation! Ntkias.—Not altogether, Lachés: I ad- ture events
mit you, and Lamachus, and many other Athenians, had without
to be courageous, and of course therefore intelligent. Mtelligence
Lachés.—I feel the compliment: but such subtle dig- present.
tinctions befit a Sophist rather than a general in high command.?
Sokr.—The highest measure of intelligence befits one in the
highest command. What you have said, Nikias, deserves careful
examination. You remember that in taking up the investigation
of courage, we reckoned it only as a portion of virtue: you are
aware that there are other portions of virtue, such as justice,
temperance, and the like. Now you define courage to be, intelli-
gence of what is terrible or not terrible: of that which causes
Lachés— Os ἄτοπα λέγει ἰ--χωρὶς δή πον κομψεύεσθαι ἣ ἀνδρὶ ὃν ἡ πόλις ἀξιοῖ

ta. ἐστὶν ἀνδρείας. αὑτῆς προϊστάναι.
t appears from two other passages Assuredly the distinctions which
195 E, and 198 B) that θαῤῥάλεος here Plato puts into the mouth of Nikias

simply the negation of δεινὸς, and are nowise more subtle than those
cannot be translated by any affirmative which he is perpetually putting into
word. Sokrates..

the mouth Pe δοκτδίοδ.. ne, cannes
1 - here mean inguish the Sophists
4 wet rachis Ἰρδ να. from Sokrates, but to distinguiah the

, , . , dialectic talkers, inclading th one
3 Plato, Lachés, 197. Kai γὰρ πρέπει, and the other, from the active political

ὦ Σώκρατες, σοφιστῇ τὰ τοιαῦτα μᾶλλον Jeaders.

2—10

146 LACHES. CuaPp. XVIII.

fear, or does not cause fear. But nothing causes fear, except
future or apprehended evils: present or past evils cause no fear.
Hence courage, as you define it, is intelligence respecting future
evils, and future events not evil.. But how can there be intelli-
gence respecting the future, except in conjunction with intelli-
gence respecting the present and the past? In every special
department, such as medicine, military proceedings, agriculture,
&c., does not the same man, who knows the phenomena of the
future, know also the phenomena of present and past? Are they
not all inseparable acquirements of one and the same intelligent
mind ?!

Since therefore courage, according to your definition, is the
knowledge of futurities evil and not evil, or future

6, and
we declared

evil and good—and since such knowledge cannot exist
without the knowledge of good and evil generally—it
follows that courage is the knowledge of good and evil
generally.? But a man who knows thus much, can-
not be destitute of any part of virtue. He must pos-
sess temperance and justice as well as courage.
Courage, therefore, according to your definition, is not
part of virtue, it is the whole. Now we began the
enquiry by stating that it was only a part of virtue,
and that there were other parts of virtue which it
did not comprise. It is plain therefore that your
definition of courage is not precise, and cannot be
We have not yet discovered what courage is. 3

Here ends the dialogue called Lachés, without any positive

Remarks, result. Nothing is proved except the ignorance of
irtere of two brave and eminent generals respecting the moral
Seninst the attribute known by the name Courage: which never-

Plato, Lachte, 198 D. περὶ ὅσων
lorie ἐπιστήμη, οὐκ ἄλλη μὲν εἶναι περὶ
γεγονότος, εἰδέναι ὅπη γέγονεν, ἄλλη δὲ
περὶ γιγνομένων, ὅπῃ γίγνεται, ἄλλῃ δὲ
ὅπῃ ay κάλλιστα γένοιτο καὶ γενήσεται

Τὸ μήπω γεγονός --ἀλλ᾽ ἡ αὐτή. οἷον περὶ
ad ὑγιαι ν εἰς ἅπαντας τοὺς γονς οὐκ
ἄλλη τις ἣ ἣ ἰατρική, μία σα, ἐφορᾷ

γεγονότα καὶ γενησόν
gave πὴ γενήσεται.

199 Β. ἡ δέ Υ αὐτὴ ἐπιστήμη τῶν
αὑτῶν καὶ μεν αν καὶ πάντως ἐχόντων
εἶναι [ὡμολόγηται].

, Lachés, 199 C. κατὰ τὸν σὸν

ν οὐ μόνον δεινῶν τε καὶ θαῤῥαλέων

ἐπιστήμη ἀνδρεία ἐατίν, ἀλλὰ σχεδόν

τι a περὶ πάντων ἀγαθῶν τε καὶ κακῶν καὶ
πάγος ἡ ἐχόντων, ἂς.

Plato, Lachés, 199 BE. Οὐκ dpa εὑρή-

da 6, τι ἔστιν.

xauey,

ome

ΠΑΡ. XVIII. BRAVE MEN IGNORANT OF COURAGE. 147

theless they are known to possess, and have the full false per-
sentiment and persuasion of knowing perfectly ; 80 knowledge.
that they give confident advice as to the means of τῦ
imparting it. “1 am unaccustomed to debates like opinions
these” (says Lachés): “but I am piqued and mortified about cou:
—because I feel that I know well what Courage is, with-
yet somehow or other 1 cannot state my own thoughts what it ix
in words.” Here is a description! of the intellectual. deficiency
which Sokrates seeks to render conspicuous to the consciousness,
instead of suffering it to remain latent and unknown, as it is in
the ordinary mind. Here, as elsewhere, he impugns the false
persuasion of knowledge, and the unconscious presumption of
estimable men in delivering opinions upon ethical and social
subjects, which have become familiar and interwoven with
deeply rooted associations, but have never been studied under a
master, nor carefully analysed and discussed, nor looked at in
their full generality. This is a mental defect which he pro-
nounces to be universal: belonging not less to men of action
like Nikias and Lachés, than to Sophists and Rhetors like Prota-
goras and Gorgias.

_ Here, as elsewhere, Plato (or the Platonic Sokrates) exposes
the faulty solutions of others, but proposes no better wo solution
solution of his own, and even disclaims all ability to given by
do so. We may nevertheless trace, in the refutation Apparent
which he gives of the two unsatisfactory explanations, pis ming. in
hints guiding the mind into that direction in which looking for
Plato looks to supply the deficiency. Thus when Intelligence
Lachés, after having given as his first answer (to the —C22nct be
question, What is Courage?) a definition not even without re-
formally sufficient, is put by Sokrates upon giving some object
his second answer,—That Courage is intelligent endu- ° e=4-
rance : Sokrates asks him *—“ Yes, intelligent : but intelligent to

1 Plato, Lachés, 194. Καίτοι ἀήθης Compare the Charmidés, p. 159 A

Ὁ set Mlachée) τῶν τοιούτων λόγων- 160 Ὁ, where Sokrates professes to tell
& τίς με καὶ φιλονεικία εἴληφε πρὸς Charmides, If temperance is really in

τὰ εἰρημένα, καὶ ws ἀληθῶς ἀγανακτῶ, εἰ yon, you can of course inform us what
οὑτωσὶ ἃ νοῶ μὴ οἷός τ᾽ εἰμὶ εἰπεῖν. it is.
νοεῖν μὲν γὰρ ἔμοιγε δοκῶ περὶ ἀνδρείας 2 Plato, Lachés, 192 D.
δ, τι ἔστιν, οὐκ οἷδα 8° ὅπῃ “με ἄρτι of φρόνιμος καρτερία ... ἔδωμεν δή, i
διέφ ὥστε μὴ ξνλλαβεῖν τῷ λόγῳ εἰς τι φρόνιμος" ἢ ἡ εἰς ἅπαντα καὶ τ
αὑτὴν καὶ εἰπεῖν ὁ, τι ἔστιν. μεγάλα καὶ τὰ σμικρά;

148 LACHES. Cuap. XVIIL.

tohat’ end? Do you mean, to all things alike, great as well as
little?” We are here reminded that intelligence, simply taken, is
altogether undefined ; that intelligence must relate to something
—and when human conduct is in question, must relate to some
end ; and that the Something, and the End, to which it relates,
must be set forth, before the proposition can be clearly under-
stood.

Coming to the answer given by Nikias, we perceive that this
deficiency is in a certain manner supplied. Courage
suppliedin is said to consist in knowledge: in knowledge of
the ΒΆΡΟΣ things terrible, and things not terrible. When Lachés
Intelligence applies his cross-examination to the answer, the
terrible and manner in which Nikias defends it puts us upon a
not terrible. distinction often brought to view, though not always
genceisnot sdhered to, in the Platonic writings. There can be
professi no doubt that death, distemper, loss of wealth, defeat,
artiste. &c., are terrible things (1.¢. the prospect of them in-
spires fear) in the estimation of mankind generally. Correct
foresight of such contingencies, and of the antecedents tending to
produce or avert them, is possessed by the physician and other
professional persons: who would therefore, it should seem, possess
the knowledge of things terrible and not terrible. But Nikias
denies this. He does not admit that the contingencies here
enumerated are, always or necessarily, proper objects of fear. In
some cases, he contends, they are the least of two evils. Before
-you can be said to possess the knowledge of things terrible and
not terrible, you must be able to take correct measure not only
of the intervening antecedents or means, but also of the end itself
as compared with other alternative ends : whether, in each par-
ticular case, it be the end most to be feared, or the real evil
under the given circumstances. The professional man can do
the former, but he cannot do the latter. He advises as to means,
and executes: but he assumes his own one end as an indisputable
datum. The physician seeks to cure his patient, without ever
enquiring whether it may not be a less evil for such patient to
die than to survive.

The ulterior, yet not less important, estimate of the compara-
Postulate of ‘Ve Worth of different ends, is reserved for that un-
a Science of known master whom ‘Nikias himself does not farther

CHaP. XVII =A SCIENCE OF ENDS IS POSTULATED. 149

specify, and whom Lachés sets aside as nowhere to be Ends, or
found, under the peculiar phrase of “some God”. Teleclogy,
Subjectively considered, this is an appeal to the judg- by
ment of that One Wise Man, often alluded to by Plato Unknown
as an absent Expert who might be called into court— ‘Wise Man—
yet never to be found at the exact moment, nor pro- with the un-
duced in visible presence : Objectively considered, it Science

is a postulate or divination of some yet undiscovered οὗ Eads
Teleology or Science of Ends: that Science of the Good, which (as
we have already noticed in Alkibiadés IT.) Plato pronounces to be
the crowning and capital science of all—and without which he
there declared, that knowledge on all other topics was useless
and even worse than useless. The One Wise Man—the Sctence
of Good—are the Subject and Object corresponding to each other,
and postulated by Plato. None but the One Wise Man can
measure things terrible and not terrible : none else can estimate
the good or evil, or the comparative value of two alternative evils,
in each individual case. The items here directed to be taken
into the calculation, correspond with what is laid down by So-
krates in the Protagoras, not with that laid down in the Gorgias:
we find here none of that marked antithesis between pleasure
and good—between pain and evil—upon which Sokrates expa-
tiates in the Gorgias.

This appears still farther when the cross-examination is taken
up by Sokrates instead of by Lachés. We are then perfect con-
made to perceive, that the knowledge of things ter- diinorte
rible and not terrible is a part, but an inseparable part, ττἦδ the one
of the knowledge of good and evil generally: the Condition
lesser cannot be had without the greater—and the of virtue.
greater carries with it not merely courage, but all the other
virtues besides. None can know good or evil generally except
the perfectly Wise Man. The perfect condition of the Intelli-
gence, is the sole and all-sufficient condition of virtue. None
can possess one mode of virtue separately.

This is the doctrine to which the conclusion of the Lachés
points, though the question debated is confessedly left without
solution. It is a doctrine which seems to have been really main-

1 Plato, Alkib. ii. 146-147. See above, ch. xii. p. 16.

150 . . .LACHES. CHap. X VIIL

tained by the historical :‘Sokrates, and is often implied in the
reasonings of the Platonic Sokrates, but not always nor con-
sistently.

In reference to this dialogue, the dramatic contrast is very
Dramatic forcible, between the cross-examination carried on by
contrast =8=©6achés, and that carried.on by Sokrates. The former
Lachésand is pettish and impatient; bringing out no result, and
Sokrates ᾿ accusing the respondent of cavil and disingenuous-
examiners. ness: the latter takes up the same answer patiently,
expands it into the full, generality wrapped up in it, and renders
palpable its inconsistency with previous admissions.

παρ. XVIIL APPENDIX. 151

APPENDIX.

Ast is the only critic who declares the Lachés not to be Plato’s
work (Platon’s Leben und Schr. pp. 451-456); He indeed even
finds it difficult to imagine how Schleiermacher can accept it as
genuine (p. 454). He justifies this opinion by numerous reasons—
pointing out what he thinks glaring defects, absurdity, and bad taste,
both in the ratiocination and in the dramatic handling, also dicta
alleged to be un-Platonic, Compare Schleiermacher’s Einleitung zam
Lachés, p. 324 seq.

I do not concur with Ast in the estimation of those passages which
serve as premisses to his conclusion. But even if I admitted his pre-
misses, I still should not admit his conclusion. I should conclude
that the dialogue was an inferior work of Plato, but I should conclude
nothing beyond. Stallbaum (Prolegg. ad Lachet. p. 29-30, 2nd ed.)
and Socher discover ‘‘adolescentie vestigia” in it, which are not
apparent to me.

Socher, Stallbaum, and K. F. Hermann pass lightly over the
objections of Ast ; and Steinhart (Einleit. p. 355) declares them to be
unworthy of a serious answer. For my part, I draw from these
dissensions among the Platonic critics a conviction of the uncertain
evidence upon which all of them proceed. Each has his own belief as
to what Plato must say, ought to say, and could noé have said ; and
each adjudicates thereupon with a degree of confidence which surprises
me. The grounds upon which Ast rejects Lachés, Charmidés, and
Lysis, though inconclusive, appear to me not more inconclusive than
those on which he and other critics reject the Eraste, Theagés, Hippias
Major, Alkibiadeés IT., &c.

The dates which Stallbaum, Schleiermacher, Socher, and Steinhart
assign to the Lachés (about 406-404 B.c.) are in my judgment erro-
neous. I have already shown my reasons for believing that not one of
the Platonic dialogues was composed until after the death of Sokrates.
The hypotheses also of Steinhart (p. 357) as to the special purposes of
Plato in composing the dialogue aré unsupported by any evidence ;

159. LACHES. . Cuap. XVIIE.

and are all imagined so as to fit his supposition as to the date. So
also Schleiermacher tells us that a portion of the Lachés is intended
by Plato asa defence of himself against accusations which had been
brought against him, a young man, for impertinence in having
attacked Lysias in the Phedrus, and Protagoras in the Protagoras,
both of them much older than Plato. But Steinhart justly remarks
that this explanation can only be valid if we admit Schleiermacher’s
theory that the Phedrus and the Protagoras are earlier compositions
than the Lach®s, which theory Steinhart and most of the others deny.
᾿ς Steinhart himself adapts his hypotheses to his own idea of the date of
the Lachés: and he is open to the same remark as he himself makes
‘upon Schleiermacher.

154 CHARMIDES. nap: XIX.
positions at once- philosophical and poetical: illustrating the
affinity of these two intellectual veins, as Plato conceived them.
He is also described as eminently temperate and modest : 3 from

whence the questions of Sokrates take their departure.

You are said to be temperate, Charmides (says Sokrates). If

80, your temperance will surely manifest itself within

tion,
What is. you in some. way, 80 as to enable you to form and
Temper —_ deliver an opinion, What Temperance is. Tell us in
dressed by plain language what you conceive it to be. Temper-
Sokrates . . ΡΟ 8
the tempe- ance, replies Charmides (after some hesitation),® con-
mides. An- sists in doing every thing in an orderly and sedate
swer, Itis manner, when we walk in the highway, or talk, or
a kind of .
sedateness perform other matters in the presence of others. It
or slowness.

is, in short, a kind of sedateness or slowness.

Sokrates begins his cross-examination upon this answer, in the

same manner as he had begun it with Laches in re-

peranice is spect to courage. Sokr.—Is not temperance a fine and
Honourable honourable thing? Does it not partake of the
slowness is essence, and come under the definition, of what is fine
inmanyor and honourable?‘ Char. —Undoubtedly it does.
not fine or Sokr.—But if we specify in detail our various opera-
honourable, tions, either of body or mind - such as writing,
trary. Tem- reading, playing on the harp, boxing, running, jump-
Pannot be ‘ing, learning, teaching, recollecting, comprehending,
slowness.

deliberating, determining, &c.—we shall find that to

do them quickly is more fine and honourable than to do them
slowly. Slowness does not, except by accident, belong to the
fine and honourable : therefore temperance, which does so belong
to it, cannot be a kind of slowness.® .

Charmides next declares Temperance to be a variety of the

Second an-
swer. Tem-
perance is ἃ
variety of

1 Plato, Charm. 155 A.
2 Plato, Charm. 157 Ὁ. About the

feeling of shame or modesty. But this (observes So-
krates) will not hold, more than the former explana-
tion : since Homer has pronounced shame not to be

ὁδοῖς βαδίζειν καὶ διαλέγεσθαι.

λήβδην ἡσν ς τις.
«Plato, 159 C-160 Ὁ. οὐ

. σνλ-

diffidence of Charmides in his younger τῶν καλῶν μέντοι κὶ σωφροσύνη ἐστίν;

years, see Xen. Mem. iii. 7,
3 Plato, Charm. 159 B.

. ἐπειδὴ dv τῷ λόγῳ τῶν καλῶν τι
ἡμῖν ἡ ἡ ἘΓΣΣ

τὸ κοσμίως

πάντα πράττειν καὶ ἡσνχῇ, ἕν τε ταῖς

Cuap. XIX. CHARMIDES. 153

CHAPTER XIX.
CHARMIDES.

As in Lachés, we have pursued an enquiry into the nature of
Courage—so in Charmidés, we find an examination of Temper-
ance, Sobriety, Moderation.1 Both dialogues conclude without
providing any tenable explanation. In both there is an abun-
dant introduction—in Charmidés, there is even the bustle of a
crowded palstra, with much dramatic incident—preluding to
the substantive discussion. I omit the notice of this dramatic
incident, though it is highly interesting to read.

The two persons with whom Sokrates here carries on the dis-
cussion, are Charmides and Kritias; both of whom, g.... and
as historical persons, were active movers in the personages
oligarchical government of the Thirty, with its nume- fogue.
rous enormities. In this dialogue, Charmides appears Crowded
as a youth just rising into manhood, strikingly Emotions
beautiful both in face and stature: Kritias his cousin S°kv#t*
is an accomplished literary man of mature age. The powerful
emotion which Sokrates describes himself as experiencing,? from
the sight and close neighbourhood of the beautiful Charmides, is
remarkable, as a manifestation of Hellenic sentiment. The same
exaltation of the feelings and imagination, which is now pro-
duced only by beautiful women, was then excited chiefly by fine ©
youths, Charmides is described by Kritias as exhibiting die-

1 I translate σωφροσύνη Temperance, which he compares to the Song of
though it is very inadequate, but I Solomon. “ Etsi omnia in hoc
know no single English word better mirificam habeant allegoriam, amato

suited. maxime, non aliter quam Cantica Salo-

2 Plato, Charm. 154 C. Ficinus, in monis—mutavi tamen nonnihil—non-
his Argumentum to this dialogue (p. nihil etiam pretermisi. Que enim
767), coy tle it as mainly allegorical, consonabant castigatissimis auribus

the warm expressions of Atticorum, rudioribus forté auribus
erotic sontiment contained therein, minimé consonarent.”

CHAP. XIX.) WHAT IS TEMPERANCE ἢ

good, for certain persons aud under certain ‘circum-
stances.!

155

the feeling
cUshame.

‘ aiviypari τινι ἔοικεν.

Nefuted by
“Temperance consists in doing one’s own business.” Sokrates.
Here we have a third explanation, proposed by Char-. Third an-
midcs and presently espoused by Kritias. Sokrates perar yem-
professes not to understand it, and pronounces it to be
like a fiddle? Every tradesman or artisan does the
business of others as well as his own. Are we to say.
for that reason that he is not temperate? I distin-
guish (says Kritias) between making and dotng: the
artisan makes for others, but he does not do for others,
and often cannot be said to do at all. To do, implies
honourable, profitable, good, occupation: this alone
is a man’s own business, and this I call temperance.
When a man acts so as to harm himself, he does not
do his own business. The doing of good: things, is temperance. 4

Sokr.—Perhaps it is. But does the well-doer always and
certainly know that he is doing well? Does the tem-. Fourth an-
perate man know his own temperance? Krit.—He Kntian
certainly must. Indeed I think that the-essence of Temper-
temperance is, Self-knowledge. Know thyself—is the ®mcecr ς,
precept of the Delphian God, who means thereby the knowledge.
same as if he had said—Be temperate. I now put aside all that
I. have said before, and take up this new position, That tem-
perance consists in a man’s knowing himself. If- you do not
admit it, I challenge your cross-examination.°

Sokr.—I cannot tell you whether I admit it or not, until I

have investigated. You address me as if I professed to know

the subject: but it is because I do not know, that I examine, in
conjunction with you, each successive answer.® If temperance

1 Plato, Charm. 161 A. |
2 Plato, Charm. 161 C—162 B.
σωφροσύνη--τὸ τὰ αὑτοῦ πράττειν . . .

him as a philosopher.

3 Plato, Charm. 168 C-D. τὰ καλῶς
καὶ ὠφελίμως ποιούμενα o +. οἰκεῖα μόνα
τὰ τοιαῦτα ἡγεῖσθαι, τὰ δὲ βλαβερὰ πάντα
ἀλλότρια «ὦ. ὅτι τὰ οἰκεῖά τε καὶ τὰ

ere is here a good deal of playful

vivacity in the dialogue: Charmidés
ves this last answer, which he has
eard from Kritias, who is at first not
orward to defend it, until Charmides
forces him to come forward, by hints
and’ side-insinuations. This is the
tic art and variety of Plato,
charming to read, but not bearing upon

αὑτοῦ ἀγαθὰ καλοίης, καὶ τὰς τῶν ἀγαθῶν
ποιήσεις πράξεις.
4Plato, Charm: 163 ΕἙ. τὴν τῶν

ἀγαθῶν πρᾶξιν σωφροσύνην εἶναι σαφῶς
σοι διορίζομαι.

5 Plato, Charm. 164-165.
6 Plato, Charm. 165 C.

CHARMIDES. Caap. XIX.

consists in knowing, it must be a knowledge of some-:

Of δοκταίε thing. Krit.—It is so: it is knowledge of a man’s self.
What good Sokr.—What good does this knowledge procure for us?
does self . 8.8 medical knowledge procures for us health—archi-
procure for tectural knowledge, buildings, &c.? Krtt.—It has no
is the ote wah positive result of analogous character: hut neither
known, in have arithmetic nor geometry. Sokr.—True, but in
Answer: arithmetic and geometry, we can at least indicate a
object is no something known, distinct from: the knowledge.
knowledge, Number and proportion are distinct from arithmetic,
the know. the science which takes cognizance of them. Now

what is that, of which temperance is the knowledge,—

᾿ distinct from temperance itself? Krit.—It is on this very point
that temperance differs from all the other cognitions. Each of
the others is knowledge of something different from itself, but
not knowledge of itself: while temperance is knowledge of all the
other sciences and of itself also.! Sokr.—If this be so, it will of
course be a knowledge of ignorance, as well asa knowledge of

knowledge? Krit.—Certainly.
Sokr.—According to your explanation, then, it is only the
temperate man who knows himself. He alone is able

Sokrates to examine himself, and thus to find out what he really
epee knows and does not know: he alone is able to examine
ledge, with- others, and thus to find out what each man knows, or
conten, What each man only believes himself to know without
ite object. to really knowing. Temperance, or self-knowledge, is
prove that the knowledge what a man knows, and what he does
anowledge not know.? Now two questions arise upon this:
inte im- First, is it possible for a man to know, that he knows

what he does know, and that he does not know what
he does not know? Next, granting it to be possible, in what way
do we gain by it? The first of these two questions involves much
difficulty. How can there be any cognition, which is not cogni-
tion of a given cognitum, but cognition merely of other cognitions
and non-cognitions? There is no vision except of some colour,
no audition except of some sound: there can be no vision of

1 Plato, Charm. 166 C. ai μὲν ἄλλαι ἐπιστήμη ἐστὶ καὶ αὐτὴ éavrns. So also
πᾶσαι ἄλλου εἰσὶν ἐπιστῆμαι, ἑαυτῶν δ᾽ 166 EK.
οὔ" ἡ δὲ μόνη τῶν τε ἄλλων ἐπιστημῶν 2 Plato, Charm. 167 A.

Cuap. XIX. COGNITION OF COGNITION. 157

visions, or audition of auditions. So likewise, all desire is desire
of some pleasure ; there is no desire of desires. All volition is
volition of some good ; there is no volition of volitions: all love
applies to something beautiful—there is no love of other loves.
The like is true of fear, opinion, &c. It would be singular there-
fore, if contrary to all these analogies, there were any cognition
not of some cognitum, but of itself and other cognitions. ἢ

It is of the essence of cognition to be cognition of something,
and to have its characteristic property with reference 41 ,now-
to some correlate.2 What is greater, has its property ledge must

: . ς . . relative
of being greater in relation to something else, which to some
is less—not in relation to itself. It cannot be greater ect.
than itself, for then it would also be less than itself. It cannot
include in itself the characteristic property of the correlatum as
well as that of the relatum. So too about what is older, younger,
heavier, lighter : there is always a something distinct, to which
reference is made. Vision does not include in itself both the
property of seeing, and that of being seen: the videns is distinct
from the visum. A movement implies something else to be
moved : a heater something else to be heated.

In all these cases (concludes Sokrates) the characteristic pro-
perty is essentially relative, implying something dis- Al
tinguishable from, yet correlating with, itself. May tiesarerela-
we generalise the proposition, and affirm, That all thing in τα.
properties are relative, and that every thing in nature ture has its
has its characteristic property with reference, not to istic pro-
itself, but to something else? Or is this true only of Perty with
some things and not of all—so that cognition may be something
in the latter category ? ;

This is an embarrassing question, which I do not feel qualified
to decide: neither the general question, whether there be any
cases of characteristic properties having no reference to any thing
beyond themselves, and therefore not relative, but absolute—nor
the particular question, whether cognition be one of those cases,
implying no separate cognitum, but being itself both relatum and
correlatum—cognition of cognition. °

1 Plato, Charm. 167-168. 3 Plato, Charm. 168-169. 169 A:

3 Plato, Charm. 168 B. ἔστι μὲν αὑτὴ μεγάλου δή τινος ἀνδρὸς δεῖ, ὅ ὅστις τοῦτο

κα ἐπιστήμη τινὸς ἐπιστήμη, καὶ ἔχει τινα κατὰ πάντων ἑκανῶς ιαιρήσεται, πότερον
φοιαύτην δύναμιν ὥστε τινὸς εἶναι. οὐδὲν τῶν ὄντων τὴν αὑτοῦ. δύναμιν αὐτὸ

158 CHARMIDES. Cuap. XTX.

But even if cognition of cognition be possible, I shall not admit
it as an explanation of what temperance is, until I have satisfied
myself that it is beneficial For I have a presentiment that

temperance must be something beneficial and good. 1
Let us concede for the present discussion (continues Sokrates)

that cognition of cognition is possible. Still how does

Even if cog- : Μὰ “
nition οἱ {18 prove that there can be cognition οὗ non-cogni-
cognition 5
were pos. tion? that a man can know both what he knows and
sible, οὐδ. what he does not know? For this is what we declared
non-cogni- self-knowledge and temperance to be.? To have cog-
ὁ impe nition of cognition is one thing : to have cognition of
sible. ἃ non-cognition is a different thing, not necessarily con-
know what nected with it. If you have cognition of cognition,
be kno tan. you Will be enabled to distinguish that which is cog-
not know § nition from that which is not—but no more. Now
ignorant of. the knowledge or ignorance of the matter of health is
Hie Knows i; one thing, known by medical science : that of justice
he knows: is a different thing, known by political science. The
notknow knowledge of knowledge simply—cognition of cogni-
bow much tion—is different from both. The person who pos-
and how sesses this last only, without knowing either medicine
doesnot ΟΥ̓ politics, will become aware that he knows some-

thing and possesses some sort of knowledge, and will
be able to verify so much with regard to others. But what it is
that he himself knows, or that others know, he will not thereby
be enabled to find out: he will not distinguish whether that
which is known belong to physiology or to politics ; to do this,
special acquirements are needed. You, a temperate man therefore,
as such, do not know what you know and what you do not know;
you know the bare fact, that you know and that you do not know.
You will not be competent to cross-examine any one who pro-
fesses to know medicine or any other particular subject, so as to
ascertain whether the man really possesses what he pretends to

πρὸς ἑαυτὸ πέφυκεν ἔχειν, ἀλλὰ πρὸς
ἀλλὸ---ἣ τὰ μέν, τὰ δ᾽ οὔ" καὶ εἰ ἔστιν
αὖ ἅτινα αὑτὰ πρὸς ἑαυτὰ ἔχει, ἄρ᾽ ἐν
τούτοις ἐστὶν ἐπιστήμη, ἣν δὴ pets
σωφροσύνην φαμὲν εἶναι. ἐγὼ μὲν ov
πιστεύω ἐμαυτῷ ἱκανὸς εἶναι ταῦτα
“διελέσθαι.

1 Plato, Charm. 169 B. ὠφελιμόν τι

κἀγαθὸν μαντεύομαι εἶναι.

Plato, Charm. 169 Ὁ. νῦν μὲν τοῦτο
ξυγχωρήσωμεν, δυνατὸν εἶναι γενέσθαι
ἐπιστήμην ἐπιστήμης---ἶθι δὴ οὖν, εἰ ὅ,τι
μάλιστα δννατὸν τοῦτο, τί parr ov οἷόν
τέ ἐστιν εἰδέναι ἃ τέ τις οἷδε καὶ ἃ μή;
τοῦτο γὰρ δήπον ἔφαμεν εἶναι τὸ γιγνώ-
σκειν αὑτὸν καὶ σωφρονεῖν.

Cuap. XIX. HOW IS TEMPERANCE USEFUL? 159

possess. There will be no ‘point in common between you and
him. You, as a temperate man, possess cognition of cognition,
but you do not know any special cognitum: the special man knows
his own special cognitum, but is a stranger to cognition generally.
You cannot question him, nor criticise what he says or performs,
in his own specialty—for of that you are ignorant :—no one can
do it except some fellow expert. You can ascertain that he pos-
sesses some knowledge: but whether he possesses that particular
knowledge to which he lays claim, or whether he falsely pretends
to it, you cannot ascertain :—since, as a temperate man, you know
only cognition and non-cognition generally. To ascertain this
point, you must be not only a temperate man, but a man of
special cognition besides.1 You can question and test no one,
except another temperate man like yourself.

But if this be all that temperance can do, of what use is it to
us (continues Sokrates)? It is indeed a great benefit Temperance
to know how much we know, and how much we therefore as
do not know: it is also a great benefit to know re- ‘husdefined
specting others, how much they know, and how much little or no
they do not know. If thus instructed, we should ;
make fewer mistakes: we should do by ourselves only what we
knew how to do,—we should commit to others that which they
knew how to do, and which we did not know. But temperance
{meaning thereby cognition of cognition and of non-cognition
generally) does not confer such instruction, nor have we found
any science which does. How temperance benefits us, does not
yet appear.

' But let us even concede—what has been just shown to be im-
possible—that through temperance we beconie aware But even
of what we do know and. what we do not know. stantingthe
Even upon this hypothesis, it will be of little service of that
tous. We have been too hasty in conceding that it just been
would be a great benefit if each of us did only what senied, still
he knew, committing to others to do only what they would be of

1 Plato, Charm. 170-171. 17 C: οἰόμενον, οὔτε ἄλλον οὐδένα τῶν ἐπιστα-
Παντὸς ἄρα μᾶλλον, εἰ σωφροσύνη μένων καὶ ὁτιοῦν, πλήν γε τὸν αὑτοῦ ὁμό-
ἐπιστήμης ἐπιστήμη μόνον ἐστὶ καὶ ἄνε- Texyen ὡς ὥσπερ οἱ ἄλλοι ὀπμιουργοῦ
πιστημοσύνης, οὔτε ἰατρὸν διακρῖναι οἷ Guar. 172 A. ὁρᾷς, ὅτι
τε ἔσται ἐπιστάμενον τὰ τῆς τέχ οὐδαμοῦ ὁ ἐπιστήμη οὐδεμία τοιαύτη οὖσα
μὴ ἐπιστάμενον προσποιούμενον nda ὁ avTat.

160 CHARMIDES. Cuap. XIX.

little value. knew. I have an awkward suspicion (continues So-
that allse- krates) that after all, this would be no great benefit.
parate work ΤΙ is true that upon this hypothesis, all operations in _
performed, society would be conducted scientifically and skil-
racti- fully. We should have none but competent pilots,
vioners, we Physicians, generals, &c., acting for us, each of them
attainour doing the work for which he was fit. The supervision
Htappiness. exercised by temperance (in the sense above defined)
would guard us against all pretenders. Let us even admit that
as to prediction of the future, we should have none but com-
petent and genuine prophets to advise us ; charlatans being kept
aloof by this same supervision. We should thus have every
‘thing done scientifically and in a workmanlike manner. But
should we for that reason do well and be happy? Can that be
made out, Kritias 13
Krit.—You will hardly find the end of well-doing anywhere
Which of 686, if you deny that it follows on doing scientifically
thevarieties or according to knowledge.* Sokr.—But according to
ledgecon- knowledge, of what? Of leather-cutting, brazen work,
tributes == wool, wood, &c.? Krit.—No, none of these. Sokr.—
we doing Well then, you see, we do not follow out consistently
ness? That your doctrine—That the happy man is he who lives
ἐν σα good scientifically, or according to knowledge. For all
andevil. § these men live according to knowledge, and still you
do not admit them to be happy. Your definition of happiness
applies only to some portion of those who live according to
knowledge, but not to all. How are we to distinguish which of
them? Suppose a man to know every thing past, present, and
future ; which among the fractions of such omniscience would
contribute most to make him happy? Would they all contribute
equally? Krit.—By no means. Sokr.—Which of them then
would contribute most? Would it be that by which he knew
the art of gaming? Krit.—Certainly not. Sokr.—Or that by
which he knew the art of computing? Krit—No. Sokr.—Or

4 Plato, Charm. 172-173. μεν, τοῦτο δὲ οὕπω. δυνάμεθα iv, ὦ

3 ῬΙαῖο, Charm. 178 C-D. κατεσ- φίλε Κριτία. ened μαθεῖν,
κενασμένον δὴ οὕτω τὸ ἀνθρώπινον γένος 3 Plato, Charm. 178 Ὁ. ᾿Αλλὰ μέντοι,
ὅτι μὲν ἐπιστημόνως ἂν πράττοι καὶ ζῴη, ἣ δ᾽ ὅς, ob ῥᾳδίως. εὑρήσεις ἄλλο τι τέλος
ἐπομαι-ῦτι δ᾽ ἐπιστημόνως ἂν πράτ" τοῦ εὖ πράττειν ἐὰν τὸ ἐπιστημόνως ate
τοντες εὖ ἂν πράττοιμεν καὶ εὐδαιμονοῖ- μάσῃς.

CuHap. XIX. SCIENCE ΟΕ GOOD AND EVIL. 161

that by which he knew the conditions of health? Krit.—That
will suit better. Sokr.—But which of them most of all? Krit.
—That by which he knew good and evil.)

Sokr.—Here then, you have been long dragging me round in a
circle, keeping back the fact, that well-doing and
happiness does not arise from living according to science of
science generally, not of all other matters taken to- er the.
gether—but from living according to the science of other spe-
this one single matter, good and evil. If you exclude wilt be of
this last, and leave only the other sciences, each of little or no
these others will work as before: the medical man Temperance
will heal, the weaver will prepare clothes, the pilot science of
will navigate his vessel, the general will conduct his sod and
army —each of them scientifically. Nevertheless, is of little
that each of these things shall conduce to our well-
being and profit, will be an impossibility, if the science of good
and evil be wanting.?, Now this science of good and evil, the
special purpose of which is to benefit 118,2 is altogether different
from temperance ; which you have defined as the science of cog-
nition and non-cognition, and which appears not to benefit us at
all Krié.—Surely it does benefit us: for it presides over and
regulates all the other sciences, and of course regulates this very
science, of good and evil, among the rest. Sokr.—In what way
can it benefit us? It does not procure for us any special service,
such as good health : that is the province of medicine : in like
manner, each separate result arises from its own producing art.
To confer benefit is, as we have just laid down, the special pro-
vince of the science of good and evil‘ Temperance, as the
science of cognition and non-cognition, cannot work any benefit
at all.

Thus then, concludes Sokrates, we are baffled in every way :

1 Plato, Charm. 174. 3 Plato, Charm. 174 Ὁ. ἧς ἔργον ἐστὶ
einen the Charm. 174 C-D. ἐπεὶ St τὸ ὠφελεῖν ἡμᾶς, de. - .
λεις ἐξελεῖν ταύτην τὴν ἐπιστήμην (0 ow
ood and evil) ἐκ τῶν ἄλλων ἐπιστημῶν, - “P lato , Charm. 18 Ἂς ἀφο σύν χα
ττόν τι ἡ μὲν ἰατρικὴ ὑγιαίνειν ποιήσει, O sa? OAD oupyés ( é pe vee “
ἡ δὲ σκυτικὴ ὑποδεδέσθαι, ἡ δὲ ὑφαντικὴ OY δῆτα, Αλλης γὰρ ἦν τ χρη ee
ἠμφιέσθαι, ἡ δὲ κυβερνητικὴ κωλύσει ἐν ἔπαιρε. GAA Ἴ5.. αὖ e880 ν ποῦν’ "ὃ
τῇ θαλάττῃ ἀποθνήσκειν καὶ 9 στρατηγικὴ z On ed Dt δή. ξ el Πάνυ
ἐν πολέμῳ; Οὐδὲν ἧττον, ἔφη. Αλλά TLS δ Ως λιμὸς ἔσται ἡ σωφροσύνη,
τε τούτων ἕκαστα γίγνεσθαι καὶ τα ὰς ὁ , oOo.
ὠφελίμως ἀπολελοιπὸς ἡμᾶς ὄσται ταύτης ἡ νηεῖς πρ αδη dove ey s Ov

ἀπούσης.
2—11

162 CHARMIDES. Cuap. XIX.

we cannot find out what temperance is, nor what that

contesces name has been intended to designate. All our tenta-
toentire κας tives have failed ; although, in our anxiety to secure
research. | some result, we have accepted more than one inad-
find out missible hypothesis. Thus we have admitted that
peratiee is there might exist cognition of cognition, though our
although = discussion tended to negative such a possibility. We
cessions have farther granted, that this cognition of cognition,
have beet, oF science of science, might know all the operations of
cannot pe each separate and special science: so that the tem-

perate man (1.e. he who possesses cognition of cogni-
tion) might know both what he knows and what he does not
know : might know, namely, that he knows the former and that
he does not know the latter. We have granted this, though it
is really an absurdity to say, that what a man does not know at
all, he nevertheless does know after a certain fashion. Yet after
these multiplied concessions against strict truth, we have still
been unable to establish our definition of temperance : for tem-
perance as we defined it has, after all, turned out to be thoroughly
unprofitable.

It is plain that we have taken the wrong road, and that I

᾿ Temperance (Sokrates) do not know how to conduct the enquiry.
good For temperance, whatever it may consist in, must
thing : but assuredly be a great benefit: and you, Charmides,

rmides . : ΜῈ

cannot tell are happy if you possess it. How can 1 tell (rejoins
ie remparate Charmides) whether I possess it or not: since even
ornot;since men like you and Kritias cannot discover what it is??
what tem-
perance is
remains
unknown.
ἘΣ ressions Here ends the dialogue called Charmidés,? after the
Charmides interchange of a few concluding compliments, forming

1 Plato, Charm. 175 B. καὶ γὰρ émo-

ἥμην ἐπιστήμης εἶναι ξννεχωρήσαμεν,
οὐκ ἐῶντος τοῦ λόγον οὐδὲ φάσκοντος
εἶναι. καὶ ταύτῃ αὖ τῇ ἐπιστήμῃ καὶ τὰ
τῶν ἄλλων ἐπιστημῶν ἔργα γιγνώσκειν
ξυνεχωρήσαμεν, οὐδὲ tour ἐῶντος τοῦ
, tva δὴ ἡμῖν γένοιτο ὁ σώφρων
ἐπιστήμων ὧν τε οἷδεν, ὅτι οἷδε, καὶ ὧν μὴ
οἷδεν, ὅτι οὐκ οἷδε. τοῦτο μὲν δὴ καὶ
παντάπασι μεγαλοπρεπῶς fuvexwpy caper.
οὐδ᾽ 'πισκεψάμενοι τὸ ἀδύνατον εἶναι, ἃ

τις μὴ οἷδε μηδαμῶς, ταῦτα εἰδέναι ἁμῶς
πως ὅτι γὰρ οὐκ οἷδε, φησὶν αὐτὰ
εἰδέναι ἡ ἡμετέρα ὁμολογία. καίτοι, ὡς
ἐγῶμαι, οὐδενὸς ὅτον οὐχὶ ἀλογώτερον
τοῦτ᾽ ἂν φανείη. This would not appear
an absurdity to Aristotle. See Anal
Priore, il. p. 67, & 21; Anal. Post. i.
a.

2 Plato, Charm. 176 A.
3 See Appendix at end of chapter.

Cuap. XIX. PERIOD OF SEARCH AND GUESSING.

part of the great dramatic richness which characterises
this dialogue from the beginning. I make no attempt
to reproduce this latter attribute ; though it is one of
the peculiar merits of Plato in reference to ethical
enquiry, imparting to the subject a charm which does
not naturally belong to it. I confine myself to the
philosophical bearing of the dialogue. According to

163

and Kritias
of praiseand
devotion to
Sokrates, at
the close of
the dia-
ogue.
Dramatic
ornament
throughout.

the express declaration of Sokrates, it ends in nothing but dis-
appointment. No positive result is attained. The problem—
What is Temperance ?—remains unsolved, after four or five diffe-

rent solutions have been successively tested and repudiated.
The Charmidés (like the Lachés) is a good illustrative speci-

men of those Dialogues of Search, the general charac-
ter and purpose of which I have explained in my
sixth chapter. It proves nothing: it disproves

several hypotheses: but it exhibits (and therein con- ἢ

sists its value) the anticipating, guessing, tentative,
and eliminating process, without which no defensible
conclusions can be obtained—without which, even if
such be found, no advocate can be formed capable of

The Char-
midés isan
excellent
imen of
ialoguesof
earch.
Abundance
of guesses
and tenta-
tives, all
ultimately
isallowed.

defending them against an acute cross-examiner. In most cases,
this tentative process is forgotten or ignored : even when recog-
nised as a reality, it is set aside with indifference, often with
ridicule. A writer who believes himself to have solved any
problem, publishes his solution together with the proofs; and
acquires deserved credit for it, if those proofs give satisfaction. —
But he does not care to preserve, nor do the public care to know,
the steps by which such solution has been reached. Nevertheless
in most cases, and in all cases involving much difficulty, there
has been a process, more or less tedious, of tentative and groping
—of guesses at first hailed as promising, then followed out toa
certain extent, lastly discovered to be untenable. The history of
science,' astronomical, physical, chemical, physiological, &c.,

1It is not often that historians of
ce take much pains to preserve
and Ὁ
arent chee discoveri oO
veries. ne in-
etance in which this has been ably and
carefully done is in the ‘ Biograph

Cavendish,’ the chemist and natural
philosopher, by Dr: Geo. Wilson.

The Ὁ chemical discovery of the
composition of water, accomplished
during the last quarter of the eighteenth
century, has been claimed as the pri-

y of vilege of three eminent scientific men

164 CHARMIDES.

Cuap. XIX.

wherever it has been at all recorded, attests this constant antece-
dence of a period of ignorance, confusion, and dispute, even in
‘cases where ultimately a solution has been found commanding:
the nearly unanimous adhesion of the scientific world. But on-
subjects connected with man and society, this period of dispute
and confusion continues to the present moment. No unanimity
has ever been approached, among nations at once active in
intellect and enjoying tolerable liberty of dissent. Moreover—
apart from the condition of different sciences among mature men
—we must remember that the transitive process, above described,
represents the successive stages by which every adult mind has
been gradually built up from infancy. Trial and error—alter-
nate guess and rejection, generation and destruction of sentiments
and beliefs—is among the most widespread facts of human
intelligence.1 Even those ordinary minds, which in mature life
harden with the most exemplary fidelity into the locally preva-
lent type of orthodoxy,—have all in their earlier years gone
through that semi-fluid and indeterminate period, in which the
type to come is yet a matter of doubt—in which the head might
have been permanently lengthened or permanently flattened,
according to the direction in which pressure was applied.

We shall follow Plato towards the close of his career (Trea-
tise De Legibus), into an imperative and stationary ortho-

—Cavendish, Watt, and Lavoisier.
The controversy on the subject, volu-
minous and bitter, has been the neans
of recording each successive scientific
hase and pvint of view. It will be
ound admirably expounded in this
biography. Wilson sets forth the mis-
conceptions, confusion of ideas, ap-
roximations to truth seen but not
ollowed out, &c., which prevailed upon
the scientific men of that gay, especi-
ally under the misleading uence of
the ‘‘phlogiston theory,” then univer-
sally received.

Ὁ Plato such a period of mental
confusion would have been in itself an
interesting object for contemplation
and description. He might have
dramatised it under the names of
various disputants, with the cross-
examining Elenchus, personified in
Sokrates, introduced to stir up the
debate, either by first advocating, then

refuting, a string of successive guesses

and dreams (Charmidés, 178 A) of his
own, or by exposing similar su, ions
emanating from others; especially in
regard to the definition of phlogis
an entity which then overspread an
ened all chemical tion, but
which every theorist thought himself
obli to define. The dialogues
would have ended (as the Protagoras,
Lysis, Charmidés, &c., now end) Ὁ
Sokrates deriding the ill success whi
had attended them in the search for an
explanation, and by his pointing out
that while all the theorists talked
familiarly about phlogiston as a power-
ful agent, none of them could agree
what it was.

See Dr. Wilson’s ‘ Biography of
Cavendish,’ pp. 36-198-820-325, and else-
where.

1 Jt is strikingly described by Plato
in one of the most remarkable passages
of the speech of Diotima in Sym-
posion, pp. 207-208.

CHap. XIX. UNCONSCIOUS IGNORANCE EXPOSED. 165.

doxy of his own: but in the dialogues which I have Trial and |
already reviewed, as well as in several others which I natural pro-
shall presently notice, no mention is made of any fess of the
given affirmative doctrine as indispensable to arrive mind Plato
at ultimately. Plato here concentrates his attention in bringin
upon the indeterminate period of the mind: looking view an
upon the mind not as an empty vessel, requiring to this part ο
be filled by ready-made matter from without—nor as process
a@ blank sheet, awaiting a foreign hand to write aecepte for
characters upon it—but as an assemblage of latent himself the
. capacities, which must be called into action by stimu- co ecious of
lus and example, but which can only attain improve- *#0rence.
ment through multiplied trials and multiplied failures. Whereas
in most cases these failures are forgotten, the peculiarity of
Plato consists in his bringing them to view with full detail,
explaining the reasons of each. He illustrates abundantly, and
dramatises with the greatest vivacity, the intellectual process
whereby opinions are broached, at first adopted, then mistrusted,
unmade, and re-made—or perhaps not re-made at all, but ex-
changed for a state of conscious ignorance. The great hero and
operator in this process is the Platonic Sokrates, who accepts for
himself this condition of conscious ignorance, and even makes it
a matter of comparative pride, that he stands nearly alone in
such confession.!_ His colloquial influence, working powerfully
and almost preternaturally,? not only serves both to spur and to
direct the activity of hearers still youthful and undecided, but
also exposes those who have already made up their minds and
confidently believe themselves to know. Sokrates brings back
these latter from the false persuasion of knowledge to the state of
conscious ignorance, and to the prior indeterminate condition of
mind, in which their opinions have again to be put together by
the tentative and guessing process. This tentative process, pro-
secuted under the drill of Sokrates, is in itself full of charm and
interest for Plato, whether it ends by finding a good solution or
only by discarding a bad one.

The Charmidés is one of the many Platonic dialogues wherein

1 Plato, Apolog. Sokr. pp. 21-22-23.
2 Plato, Symposiun, 213 E, 215-216; Menon, sv -B.

CHARMIDES. CuHaP. XIX.

such intellectual experimentation appears depicted

Familiar without any positive result: except as it adds fresh
cont Matter to illustrate that wide-spread mental fact,—
much at ΚΠ (which has already come before the reader, in Euthy-
but never” Phron, Alkibiadés, Hippias, Eraste, Lachés, &c., as to
understood holiness, beauty, philosophy, courage, &c., and is now
—ordinary brought to view in the case of temperance also ; all of
phenome —_ them words in every one’s mouth, and tacitly assumed
roclety. by every one as known quantities)}—the perpetual

and confident judgments which mankind are in the
habit of delivering—their apportionment of praise and blame, as
well as of reward and punishment consequent on praise and
blame—without any better basis than that of strong emotion
imbibed they know not how, and without being able to render
any rational explanation even of the familiar words round which
such emotions are grouped. No philosopher has done so much as
Plato to depict in detail this important fact—the habitual con-
dition of human society, modern as well as ancient, and for that
very reason generally unnoticed.’ The emotional or subjective
value of temperance is all that Sokrates determines, and which
indeed he makes his point of departure. Temperance is essen-
tially among the fine, beautiful, honourable, things:? but its
rational or objective value (12, what is the common object
characterising all temperate acts or persons), he cannot determine.
Here indeed Plato is not always consistent with himself: for we
shall come to other dialogues wherein he professes himself
incompetent to say whether a thing be beautiful or not, until it
be determined what the thing is:* and we have already found

1‘* Whoever has reflected on the
generation of ideas in his own mind,
or has investigated the causes of mis-
understandings among mankind; wi
be obliged to proclaim as a fact deeply
seated in human nature—That most of
the misunderstandings and contradic-
tions among men, most of the contro-
versies and errors both in science and
in society, arise usually from our as-
suming (consciously or unconsciovsly
fundamental maxims and fundamen
facts as if they were self-evident, and
as if they must be assumed by every
one else besides. Accordingly we never
think of closely examining them, until
at length experience has taught us

will of divergent opinions.”—(L.

that these self-evident matters are
exactly what stand most in need of
proof, and what form the ial root
. Brocker
—Untersachungen iiber die Glaub-

eit der alt-Rimischen Ge-
schichte, p. 490.)

2 Plato, Charm. 159 B, 160 Ὁ ἡ
σωφροσύνη---τῶν καλῶν τι--ἐν τῷ
τῶν καλῶν τι. So also Sokrates, in the
Lachés (192 C), assumes that courage is
τῶν wavy καλῶν πραγμάτων, though he
rofesses not to know nor to be able
discover what courage is.

OB? Θοτεῖδβθ, 162 B, 448 E; Menon,

Crap. XIX. SELF-KNOWLEDGE IMPOSSIBLE. 167

Sokrates declaring (in the Hippias Major), that we cannot
determine whether any particular object is beautiful or not, until
we have first determined, What is Beauty in the Absolute, or the
Self-Beautiful? a problem nowhere solved by Plato.

Among the various unsuccessful definitions of temperance pro-
pounded, there is more than one which affords farther pifterent
example to show how differently Plato deals with the ethical

. . : . points of
same subject in different dialogues. Here we have view in
the phrase—“to do one’s own business "—treated as {different
an unmeaning puzzle, and exhibited as if it were dialogues.
analogous to various other phrases, with which the analogy is
more verbal than real. But in the Republic, Plato admits this
phrase as well understood, and sets it forth as the constituent
element of justice; in the Gorgias, as the leading mark of
philosophical life.?

Again, another definition given by Kritias is, That temperance
consists in knowing yourself, or in self-knowledge. g.ir-hnow.-
In commenting upon this definition, Sokrates makes ledge is
out—first, that self-knowledge is impossible: next, clared to be
that if possible, it would be useless. You cannot possible.
know yourself, he argues: you cannot know what you know,
and what you do not know: to say that you know what you
know, is either tautological or untrue—to say that you know
what you do not know, is a contradiction. All cognition must
be cognition of something distinct from yourself: it is a relative
term which must have some correlate, and cannot be its own
correlate : you cannot have cognition of cognition, still less cog-
nition of non-cognition.

This is an important point of view, which I shall discuss more

at length when I come to the Platonic Theetétus. [
bring it to view here only as contrasting with the
different language held by the Platonic Sokrates in
other dialogues ; where he insists on the great value
and indispensable necessity of self-knowledge, as a
preliminary to all other knowledge—upon the duty
of eradicating from men’s minds that false persuasion

of their own knowledge which they universally che- ha

In other
dialogues,
Sokrates de-
clares self-
knowledge
to be essen-
tial and
inestimable.
Necessity
for the
student to
ve pre-

1 Plato, Republ. iv. 438, vi. 496 C, viii. 550 A; Gorgias, 526 C. Compare

also Timseus, 72 A, Xen. Mem. ii. 9, 1.

168 CHARMIDES. Chap. XIX.

sentedto . rished—and upon the importance of forcing them to
him dissen- . . .

tient points know their own ignorance as well as their own know-
of view. ledge. In the face of this last purpose, so frequently
avowed by the Platonic Sokrates (indirectly even in this very
dialogue),} we remark a material discrepancy, when he here
proclaims self-knowledge to be impossible. We must judge every
dialogue by itself, illustrating it when practicable by comparison
with others, but not assuming consistence between them as a
postulate ἃ priors. It isa part of Plato's dramatic and tentative
mode of philosophising to work out different ethical points of
view, and to have present to his mind one or other of them, with
peculiar force in each different dialogue. The subject is thus
brought before us on all its sides, and the reader is familiarised
with what a dialectician might say, whether capable of being
refuted or not. Inconsistency between one dialogue and another
is not a fault in the Platonic dialogues of Search ; but is, on the
contrary, a part of the training process, for any student who is
destined to acquire that full mastery of question and answer
which Plato regards as the characteristic test of knowledge. It
is a puzzle and provocative to the internal meditation of the
student.

In analyzing the Lachés, we observed that the definition of
Courageand courage given by Nikias was shown by Sokrates to
Temperance have no meaning, except in so far as it coincided with
have no dis- the general knowledge or cognition of good and evil.
ing, except Here, too, in the Charmidés, we are brought in the
as ‘he wane _ last result to the same terminus—the general cogni-
ralcogniz- tion of good and evil. But Temperance, as previously
focdand «defined, is not comprehended under that cognition,
evil. and is therefore pronounced to be unprofitable.

_ This cognition of good and evil—the science of the profitable—
Distinction is here (in the Charmidés) proclaimed by Sokrates to
made be == have a place of its own among the other sciences;
and even to be first among them, essentially neces-
and the sary to supervise and direct them, as it had been
ecience of —_ declared in Alkibiadés II. Now the same supervis-
Evil. With- ing place and directorship had been claimed by

1 Plato, Charm. 166 ἢ,

Cuap. XIX. KNOWLEDGE ALWAYS RELATIVE. 169

out this
last, the
special

sciences

Kritias for Temperance as he defines it—that is, self-
knowledge, or the cognition of our cognitions and
non-cognitions. But Sokrates doubts even the reality S00 Gr no
of such self-knowledge: and granting for argument’s use.
sake that it exists, he still does not see how it can be profitable.
For the utmost which its supervision can ensure would be, that
each description of work shall be scientifically done, by the
skilful man, and not by the unskilful. But it is not true, abso-
lutely speaking (he argues), that acting scientifically or with
knowledge is sufficient for well doing or for happiness: for the
question must next be asked—Knowledge—of what? Not know-
ledge of leather-cutting, carpenter’s or brazier’s work, arithmetic,
or even medicine: these, and many others, a man may possess,
and may act according to them ; but still he will not attain the
end of being happy. All cognitions contribute in greater or less
proportion towards that end: but what contributes most, and
most essentially, is the cognition of good and evil, without which
all the rest are insufficient. Of this last-mentioned cognition or
science, it is the special object to ensure profit or benefit :! to
take care that everything done by the other sciences shall be
done well or in a manner conducing towards the end Happiness.
After this, there is no province left for temperance—t.e., self-
knowledge, or the knowledge of cognitions and non-cognitions :
no assignable way in which it can yield any benefit.?

Two points are here to be noted, as contained and debated in
the handling of this dialogue. 1. Knowledge abso-

Knowledge,
lutely, is a word without meaning: all knowledge is always re-
relative, and has a definite object or cognttwm: there some object
can be no sctentia screntiarum. 2. Among the various KNOWN he or
objects of knowledge (cognita or cognoscenda), one is, divination

good and evil. There is a science of good and evil, of a Science
the function of which is, to watch over and compare 1!°8Y-

the results of the other sciences, in order to promote results of
happiness, and to prevent results of misery : without the super-
vision of this latter science, the other sciences might be all

1 Plato, Charm. 174 Ὁ. Οὐχ αὕτη δέ

e, ὡς ἔοικεν, ἐστὶν ἡ “σωφροσύνη, ἀλλ᾽
ξύων, ἐστὶ τὸ ὠφελεῖν ἡμᾶς. οὐ γὰρ
πιστημῶν γε καὶ ἀνεπιστημοσυνῶν a
vu τε καὶ κακοῦ.

ἐπιστήμη ἐστίν, ἀλλὰ &
Plato, Charm. 174 E. Οὐκ dpa
ὑγιείας ἔσται δημιουργός; Οὐ δῆτα.

Ἄλλης γὰρ ἦν τέχνης ὑγίεια; ij ov;
*AAAns * Οὐδ᾽ ἄρα ὠφελείας, ὦ ἑταῖρε"
ἄλλῃ γὰρ αὖ ἀπέδομεν τοῦτο τὸ ὃ ἐργον
τέχνῃ νὺν δή" A γάρ; Πάνν γ

οὖν ὠφέλιμος ἔσται ἡ σωφροσύνη, οὐδε-
μιᾶς ὠφελείας οὖσα δημιουργός; Ovla
μῶς, ὦ Σώκρατες, ἔοικέ γε.

170 CHARMIDES. Cuar. XIX.

exactly followed out, but no rational comparison could be had
between them.'! In other words, there is a science οἱ Ends, esti-
mating the comparative worth of each End in relation to other
Ends (Teleology): distinct from those other more special sciences, ὁ
which study the means each towards a separate End of its own.
Here we fall into the same track as we have already indicated in
Lachés and Alkibiadés IT.
These matters I shall revert toin other dialogues, where we
shall find them turned over and canvassed in many
and Tempe different ways. One farther observation remains to
led both by be made on the Lachés and Charmidés, discussing as
by. yo and they do Courage (which is also again discussed in the
stotle. Protagoras) and Temperance. An interesting com-
between parison may be made between them and the third
the two. book of the Nikomachean Ethics of Aristotle? where
the same two subjects are handled in the Aristotelian manner.
The direct, didactic, systematising, brevity of Aristotle contrasts
remarkably with the indirect and circuitous prolixity, the multi-
plied suggestive comparisons, the shifting points of view, which
we find in Plato. Each has its advantages: and both together
will be found not more than sufficient, for any one who is
seriously bent on acquiring what Plato calls knowledge, with the
cross-examining power included in it. Aristotle is greatly
superior to Plato in one important attribute of a philosopher : in
the care which he takes to discriminate the different significa-
tions of the same word: the univocal and the equivocal, the
generically identical from the remotely analogical, the proper
from the improper, the literal from the metaphorical. Of such
precautions we discover little or no trace in Plato, who some-
times seems not merely to neglect, but even to deride them. Yet
Aristotle, assisted as he was by all Plato’s speculations before us,
is not to be understood as having superseded the necessity for
that negative Elenchus which.animates the Platonic dialogues of
Search: nor would his affirmative doctrines have held their
grounds before a cross-examining Sokrates.

1 Compare what has been said upon The comments of Aristotle upon the
the same subject in my remarks on doctrine of Sokrates respecting Courage
Alkib. i. andi. p. . seem to relate rather to the Protagoras

2 Aristot. Ethic. Nikom. ΠΡ. 1115, than to the Lachés of Plato. See Eth.

1119; also Ethic. Eudem. 1229- Nik. 1116, 6, 4; Eth. Eud. 1229, a. 15.
1281.

CHap. XIX. . APPENDIX, 171

APPENDIX,

The dialogue Charmidés is declared to be spurious, not only by Ast,
but also by Socher (Ast, Platon’s Leb. pp. 419-428 ; Socher, Ueber
Platon, pp. 130-137). Steinhart maintains the genuineness of the
dialogue against them ; declaring (as in regard to the Lachés) that he
can hardly conceive how critics can mistake the truly Platonic cha-
racter of it, though here too, as in the Lachés, he detects ‘‘adolescentie
vestigia ” (Steinhart, Einleit. zam Charmidés, pp. 290-293).

Schleiermacher considers Charmidés as well as Lachés to be ap-
pendixes to the Protagoras, which opinion both Stallbaum (Proleg. ad
Charm. p. 121 ; Proleg. ad Lachet. p. 30, 2nd ed.) and Steinhart con-
trovert.

The views of Stallbaum respecting the Charmidés are declared by
Steinhart (p. 290) to be ‘‘ recht ausserlich und oberflichlich ”. To me
they appear much nearer the truth than the profound and recondite
meanings, the far-sighted indirect hints, which Steinhart himself per-
ceives or supposes in the words of Plato.

These critics consider the dialogue as composed during the govern-
ment of the Thirty at Athens, in which opinion I do not concur.

172 ΨΥΒΙΒ. - CHap. XX, -

CHAPTER XX,
LYSIS.

Tae Lysis, as well as the Charmidés, is a dialogue recounted by
Analogy be- Sokrates himself, describing both incidents and a con-

tween ysis versation in a crowded Palestra; wherein not merely
midds "bodily exercises were habitually practised, but debate
688

of dramatic a8 carried on and intellectual instruction given by a
incident Sophist named Mikkus, companion and admirer of ©
Youthful .Sokrates. There is a lively dramatic commencement,
beauty. introducing Sokrates into the Palestra, and detailing
the preparation and scenic arrangements, before the real discus-
sion opens. It is the day of the Hermea, or festival of Hermes,
celebrated by sacrifice and its accompanying banquets among the
frequenters of gymnasia.

Lysis, like Charmidés, is an Athenian youth, of conspicuous
‘Scenery and beauty, modesty, and promise. His father Demokrates
personages represents an ancient family of the A:xonian Deme in
of the Lysis. a ttica and is said to be descended from Zeus and the
daughter of the Archégetés or Heroic Founder of that Deme.
The family moreover are so wealthy, that they have gained many
victories at the Pythian, Isthmian, and Nemean games, both with
horses and with chariots and four. Menexenus, companion of
Lysis, is somewhat older, and is his affectionate friend. The
persons who invite Sokrates into the palzstra, and give occasion
to the debate, are Ktesippus and Hippothalés: both of them
adults, yet in the vigour of age. Hippothales is the Erastes of
Lysis, passionately attached to him. He is ridiculed by Ktesip-
pus for perpetually talking about Lysis, as well as for addressing
to him compositions both in prose and verse, full of praise and

Crap. XX. MODE OF TALKING WITH YOUTH. 173

flattery ; extolling not only his personal beauty, but also his
splendid ancestry and position.’ ὔ
In reference to these addresses, Sokrates remonstrates with
Hippothalés on the imprudence and mischief of ad- origin of
dressing to a youth flatteries calculated to turn his the conver-
head. He is himself then invited by Hippothalés to krates pro-
exhibit a specimen of the proper mode of talking to Mes)?
youth ; such as shall be at once acceptable to the example of

person addressed, and unobjectionable. Sokrates wayrot Ik-
agrees to do so, if an opportunity be afforded him of M&i0 4%,
conversing with Lysis.? Accordingly after some well- his benefit.
imagined incidents, interesting as marks of Greek manners—So-
krates and Ktesippus with others seat themselves in the palestra,
amidst a crowd of listeners? Lysis, too modest at first to ap-
proach, is emboldened to sit down by seeing Menexenus seated
by the side of Sokrates : while Hippothalés, not daring to put
himself where Lysis can see him, listens, but conceals himself
behind some of the crowd. Sokrates begins the conversation
with Menexenus and Lysis jointly: but presently Menexenus
is called away for a moment, and he talks with Lysis singly.
Sokr.—Well—Lysis—your father and mother love you ex-
tremely. Lysis.—Assuredly they do. Sokr.—They Conversa-
would wish you therefore to be as happy as possible. #07 οἱ
Lysis. —Undoubtedly. Sokr.—Do you think any man with Lysis.
happy, who is a slave, and who is not allowed to do any thing
that he desires? Lysis —I do not think him happy at all.
Sokr.—Since therefore your father and mother are so anxious
that you should be happy, they of course allow you to do the
things which you desire, and never reprove nor forbid you.
Lysis.—Not at all, by Zeus, Sokrates: there are a great many
things that they forbid me. Sokr.—How say you! they wish
you to be happy—and they hinder you from doing what you
wish ! Tell me, for example, when one of your father’s chariots
is going to run a race, if you wished to mount and take the reins,
would not they allow you todo so? Lysts—No—certainly : they
would not allow me. Sokr.—But whom do they allow, then? Lysis.
—My father employs a paid charioteer. Sokr.—What! do they per-

1 Plato, Lysis, 208-205.
ὁ Plato, Lysis, 206. 3 Plato, Lysis, 206-207.

174 LYSIS. CHap. XX.

mit a hireling, in preference to you, to do what he wishes with the
horses ? and do they give him pay besides for doingso? Lysts.—
Why —to be sure. Sokr.—But doubtless, I imagine, they trust the
team of mules to your direction ; and if you chose to take the whip
and flog, they would allow you? Lysis.—Allow me? not at all.
Sokr.—What ! is no one allowed to flog them? Lysis.—Yes—
certainly—the mule-groom. Sokr.—Is hea slave or free? Lysis.
—A slave. Sokr.—Then, it seems, they esteem a slave higher
than you their son ; trusting their property to him rather than
to you, letting him do what he pleases, while they forbid you.
But tell me farther : do they allow you to direct yourself—or do
not they even trust you so far as that? Lysts.—How can you
imagine that they trust me? Sokr.—But does any one else direct
you? Jysis.—Yes—this tutor here. Sokr.—Is he a slave? Lysis.
—To be sure: belonging to our family.. Sokr.—That is shocking:
one of free birth to be under the direction of a slave! But what
is it that he does, as your director? ysis.—He conducts me to
my teacher’s house. Sokr.—What! do they govern you also, these
teachers? Lysis.—Undoubtedly they do. Sokr.—Then your
father certainly is bent on putting over you plenty of directors
and governors. But surely, when you come home to your
mother, she at least, anxious that you should be happy as far as
she is concerned, lets you do what you please about the wool or
the web, when she is weaving: she does not forbid you to meddle
with the bodkin or any of the other instruments of her work ?
Lysis.—Ridiculous ! not only does she forbid me, but I should
be beaten if I did meddle. Sokr.—How is this, by Heraklés ?
Have you done any wrong to your father and mother? Lysis.—
Never at all, by Zeus. Sokr.—From what provocation is it, then,
that they prevent you in this terrible way, from being happy and
doing what you wish? keeping you the whole day in servitude
to some one, and never your own master? so that you derive no
benefit either from the great wealth of the family, which is
managed by every one else rather than by you—or from your
own body, noble as itis. Even that is consigned to the watch
and direction of another: while you, Lysis, are master of nothing,
nor can do any one thing of what you desire. Lysis.—The reason
is, Sokrates, that I am not yet old enough. Sokr.—That can
hardly be the reason ; for to a certain extent your father and

Char. XX. SERVITUDE OF THE IGNORANT. 175

nother do trust you, without waiting for you to grow older. If
they want any thing to be written or read for them, they employ
you for that purpose in preference to any one in the house: and
you are then allowed to write or read first, whichever of the
letters you think proper. Again, when you take up the lyre,
neither father nor mother hinder you from tightening or relax-
ing the strings, or striking them either with your finger or with
the plectrum. Lysis.—They do not. Sokr.—Why is it, then,
that they do not hinder you in this last case, as they did
in the cases before mentioned? Zysts.—I suppose it is be-
cause I know this last, but did not know the others. Sokr.—
Well, my good friend, you see that it is not your increase of years
that your father waits for ; but on the very day that he becomes
convinced that you know better than he, he will entrust both
himself and his property to your management. Lysts.—I sup-
pose that he will. Sokr.—Ay—and your neighbour too will
judge in the same way as your father. As soon as he is satisfied
that you understand house-management better than he does,
which do you think he will rather do—confide his house to you,
or continue to manage it himself? Lysts.—I think he will con-
fide it to me. Sokr.—The Athenians too: do not you think that
they also will put their affairs into your management, as soon as
they perceive that you have intelligence adequate to the task ?
Lysis.—Yes: I do. Sokr.—What do you say about the Great
King also, by Zeus! When his meat is being boiled, would he
permit his eldest son who is to succeed to the rule of Asia, to
throw in any thing that he pleases into the sauce, rather than us,
if we come and prove to him that we know better than his son
the way of preparing sauce? Lysis.—Clearly, he will rather
permit us. Sokr.—The Great King will not let his son throw in
even a pinch of salt : while we, if we chose to take up an entire
handful, should be allowed to throw it in. Lysis.—No doubt.
Sokr.—What if his son has a complaint in his eyes ; would the
Great King, knowing. him to be ignorant of medicine, allow him
even to touch his own eyes—or would he forbid him? Lysts.—
‘He would forbid him. Sokr.—As to us, on the contrary, if he
accounted us good physicians, and if we desired even to open the
eyes and drop a powder into them, he would not hinder us, in
the conviction that we understood what we were doing. Lysis.

176 LYSIS. Cuar. XX. -

—You speak truly. Sokr.—All other matters, in short, on which
he believed us to be wiser than himself or his son, he would
entrust to us rather than to himself or his son? Lysis.—Neces-
sarily so, Sokrates. Sokr.—This is the state of the case, then, my
dear Lysis: On those matters on which we shall have become
intelligent, all persons will put trust in us—Greeks as well as
barbarians, men as well as women. We shall do whatever we
please respecting them : no one will be at all inclined to inter-
fere with us on such matters ; not only we shall be ourselves
free, but we shall have command over others besides. These
matters will be really ours, because we shall derive real good
from them.’ As to those subjects, on the contrary, on which we
shall not have acquired intelligence, no one.will trust us to do
what we think right: every one,—not merely strangers, but
father and mother and nearer relatives if there were any,—will
obstruct us as much as they can : we shall be in servitude so far
as these subjects are concerned ; and they will be really alien
to us, for we shall derive no real good from them. Do you
admit that this is the case?? Lysis—I do admit it. Sokr.—
Shall we.then be friends to any one, or will any one love us, on
those matters on which we are unprofitable? Lysis.—Certainly
not. Sokr.—You see that neither does your father love you, nor
does any man love another, in so far as he is useless? Lysis.—
Apparently not. Sokr.—If then you become intelligent, my boy,
all persons will be your friends and all persons will be your
kinsmen : for you will be useful and good: if you do not, no
one will be your friend,—not even your father nor your mother
nor your other relatives.

Is it possible then, Lysis, for a man to think highly of himself
on those matters on which he does not yet think aright? Lysis.
—How can it be possible? Sokr.—If you stand in need of a
teacher, you do not yet think aright? Lysis—True Sokr.—
Accordingly, you are not presumptuous on the score of intelli-
gence, since you are still without intelligence. Lysts.—By Zeus,
Sokrates, I think not.*

1 Plato, Lysis, 210 B. καὶ οὐδεὶς αὐτοῖς ἐσόμεθα ἄλλων ὑπήκοοι, καὶ ἡμῖν
ἡμᾶς ἑκὼν εἶναι ἐμποδιεῖ, ἀλλ᾽ αὐτοί τε ἔσται ἀλλότρια- οὐδὲν γὰρ ax αὑτῶν
ἐλεύθεροι ἐσόμεθα ἐν αὐτοῖς καὶ ἄλλων ὀνησόμεθα. Σνγχωρεῖς οὕτως ἔχειν;
ἄρχοντες, ἡμέτερά τε ταῦτα ἔσται" ὄνη- Σ al

σόμεθα γὰρ ἀπ᾿ αὐτῶν. ὝῬιδίο, Lysis, 210 D. Οἷόν τε οὖν
| Plato, Lysis, 210 C. αὐτοί re ἐν ἐπὶ τούτοις, ὦ Δύσι, μέγα φρονεῖν, ἐν ols

Crap. XX. LESSON OF HUMILITY. 177

When I heard Lysis speak thus (continues Sokrates, who is
here the narrator), I looked towards Hippothalés and
I was on the point of committing a blunder: for it humiliated.
occurred to me to say, That is the way, Hippothalés, - Hippo-
to address a youth whom you love: you ought to *balé
check and humble him, not puff him up and spoil him, as you
have hithertodone. But when I saw him agitated and distressed
by what had been said, I called to mind that, though standing
close by, he wished not to be seen by Lysis. Accordingly, I
restrained myself and said nothing of the kind.!

Lysis accepts this as a friendly lesson, inculcating humility :
and seeing Menexenus just then coming back, he says Lysis en-
aside to Sokrates, Talk to Menexenus, as you have treats So-
been talking tome. You can tell him yourself (re- taix‘in the
plies Sokrates) what you have heard from me: you like strain to
listened very attentively. Most certainly I shall tell
him (says Lysis): but meanwhile pray address to him yourself
some other questions, for me to hear. You must engage to help
me if I require it (answers Sokrates): for Menexenus is a for-
midable disputant, scholar of our friend Ktesippus, who is here
ready to assist him. I know he is (rejoined Lysis), and it is for
that very reason that I want you to talk to him—that you may
chasten and punish him.?

I have given at length, and almost literally (with some few
abbreviations), this first conversation between Sokrates Value of the
and Lysis, because it isa very characteristic passage, ἄτα con-
exhibiting conspicuously several peculiar features of between
the Platonico-Sokratic interrogation. Facts common and Lysis,
and familiar are placed in a novel point of view, δ éntlu
ingeniously contrasted, and introduced: as stepping- the Pla-
stones to a very wide generality. Wisdom or know- Sokratic
ledge is exalted into the ruling force with liberty of ™nner.

τις ΣΕ dee φρονεῖ; Καὶ πῶς ἄν; ἔφη. 3 pie L 210 E.

διδασκάλον δέει, οὕπω 2p ysis, 211 B-C. ἀλλ᾽ ipa

φρονεῖς: aw ὅπως ἐπικουρήσεις μοι, ἐάν με ἐλέγχειν
Οὐδ᾽ ἄρα μεγ αλόφρων « εἶ, εἴπερ ἄφρων ἐπιχε ὁ Μενέξενος. 4 οὐκ οἷσθα ὅτι
én. Μὰ “Δί, με, ὦ Σώκρατες, ov μοι ἐριστικός ἐστι; Ναὶ μὰ Δία, ἔφη pre

δοκεῖ. διὰ ταῦτά τοι καὶ βούλο͵
There is here a double sense οὗ μέγα ζιαλέγεσθαι. ἵν αὐτὸν κολάσῃς.
φρονεῖν μεγαλόφρων, which cannot Compare Xenophen, Memor. Lan μι »Ζ,
easily ‘made to pass into any other where he speaks
pose often contemplated by Sokra: yin

2—12

178 LYSIS. CuHap. XX.

action not admissible except under its guidance: the questions
are put in an inverted half-ironical tone (not uncommon with
the historical Sokrates'), as if an affirmative answer were expected
as a matter of course, while in truth the answer is sure to be
᾿ negative: lastly, the purpose of checking undue self-esteem is
proclaimed. The rest of the dialogue, which contains the main
substantive question investigated, I can report only in brief
abridgment, with a few remarks following.

Sokrates begins, as Lysis requests, to interrogate Menexenus—
Sokrates first premising—Different men have different tastes :
beginsto some love horses and dogs, others wealth or honours.
examine ΠΟ For my part, I care little about all such acquisitions :
specti but I ardently desire to possess friends, and I would
Whoisto. Yather have a good friend than all the treasures of
frend? Persia. You two, Menexenus and Lysis, are much to
Halt inthe be envied, because at your early age, each of you has
dialogue. = made an attached friend of the other. But I am so
far from any such good fortune, that I do not even know how
any man becomes the friend of another. This is what I want to
ask from you, Menexenus, as one who must know,’ having ac-
quired such a friend already.

When one man loves another, which becomes the friend of
which ? Does he who loves, become the friend of him whom he
loves, whether the latter returns the affection or not? Or is the
person loved, whatever be his own dispositions, the friend of the
person who loves him? Or is reciprocity of affection necessary,
in order that either shall be the friend of the other ?

The speakers cannot satisfy themselves that the title of friend
fits either of the three cases ;* so that this line of interrogating
comes to a dead lock. Menexenus avows his embarrassment,
while Lysis expresses himself more hopefully.

Sokrates now takes up a different aspect of the question, and

his conversation—& ἐκεῖνος κολαστηρίον ei μήτε οἱ φιλοῦντες (1) φίλοι ἔσονται,

ἕνεκα τοὺς πάντ᾽ οἰομένους εἰδέναι ἐρωτῶν μήθ᾽ οἱ φιλούμενοι (2), μήθ᾽ οἱ φιλοῦντές

ἤλεγχεν. τε καὶ φιλούμενοι (3), &c. Sokrates
1 the conversation of Sokrates here professes to have shown grounds

with Glaukon in Xenophon, Memor. for rejecting all these three supposi-

fii 6; also the conversation with tione But if we follow the

Perikles, iii. 6, 28-24. argument, we shall see that he has
3 Plato, Lysis, 211-212. shown grounds only against the first
3 Plato, Lysis, 212-218. 213 C:— two, not against the third.

Cap. XX. WHAT 18 A FRIEND ? 179

turns to Lysis, inviting him to consider what has been Questions
laid down by the poets, “our fathers and guides in addressed
respect of wisdom”™.! Homer says that the Gods ᾧᾧ preal to
originate friendship, by bringing the like man to his the ymaxims
like: Empedokles and other physical philosophers Like is the
“have also asserted, that like must always and of friend οἱ
necessity be the friend of like. These wise teachers vassed and
cannot mean (continues Sokrates) that bad men are rejected.
friends of each other. The bad man can be no one’s friend. He
is not even like himeelf, but ever wayward and insane :—much
less can he be like to any one else, even to another bad man.
They mean that the good alone are like to each other, and friends
to each other? But is this true? What good, or what harm,
can like do to like, which it does not also do to itself? How can
there be reciprocal love between parties who render to each other
no reciprocal aid? Is not the good man, so far forth as good,
sufficient to himself,—standing in need of no one—and therefore
loving no one? How can good men care much for each other,
seeing that they thus neither regret each other when absent, nor
have need of each other when present ?

It appears, therefore, Lysis (continues Sokrates), that we are
travelling in the wrong road, and must try another oth
direction. I now remember to have recently heard declare that
some one affirming—contrary to what we have just lkenessisa
said—that likeness is a cause of aversion, aud unlike- aversion ;
ness a cause of friendship. He too produced evidence of friend.
from the poets: for Hesiod tells us, that “ potter is ship. Rea-
jealous of potter, and bard of bard”. Things most con. Re-
alike are most full of envy, jealousy and hatred to
each other: things most unlike, are most full of friendship.
Thus the poor man is of necessity a friend to the rich, the weak
man to the strong, for the sake of protection: the sick man, for
similar reason, to the physician. In general, every ignorant man
loves, and is a friend to, the man of knowledge. Nay, there are

1 Plato, Lysis, 218 E: σκοποῦντα κατὰ μὴ ἁ ἡ, οὐδ᾽ ἂν φιλοῖ. . . . Πῶς οὖν
τοὺς ποιητάς οὗτοι ap ἧἥμῖν ὥσπερ οἱ ἀγαδοῖ τοῖς ἂν wh a ἡμῖν φίλοι ἔ ἔσονται
πατέρες τῆς σοφίας εἰσὶ καὶ ἡγεμόνες. τὴν ἀρχήν, οἵ μῆτε ἀπόντες ποθεινοὶ ἀλ-

3 Plato, Lysis, 214. λήλοις--ἰ ἑκανοὶ dp ἑαντοῖς καὶ χωρὶς

Svres—pijre waphrves χρείαν αὑτῶν €xov-

8 Plato, L 215 B: Ὁ δὲ μή τον σι; τοὺς δὴ τοιούτους τίς μηχανὴ περὶ

δεόμενος, οὐδέ τι ἀγαπῴη ἂν. . .. Ὃ δὲ πολλοῦ ποιεῖσθαι ἀλλήλους ;

180 LYsiIg. CHap. XX.

also physical philosophers, who assert that this principle pervades
all nature; that dry is the friend of moist, cold of hot, and 80
forth: that all contraries serve as nourishment to their contraries.
These are ingenious teachers: but if we follow them, we shall
have the cleverest disputants attacking us immediately, - and
asking— What ! is the opposite essentially a friend to its oppo-
site? Do you mean that unjust is essentially the friend of just
—temperate of intemperate—good of evil? Impussible: the
doctrine cannot be maintained.}

My head turns (continues Sokrates) with this confusion and
Confusion Puzzle—since neither like is the friend of like, nor
of Sokrates. contrary of contrary. But I will now hazard a dif-
Hesuggests, .
Thatthe | ferent guess of my own? There are three genera in
(neither 811: the good—the evil—and that which is neither
goodnor good nor evil, the indifferent. Now we have found
friend to that good is not a friend to good—nor evil to evil—
nor good to evil—nor evil to good. If therefore there
exist any friendship at all, it must be the indifferent that is
friend, either to its like, or to the good: for nothing whatever
can be a friend to evil. Butif the indifferent be a friend at all,
it cannot be a friend to its own like; since we have already
shown that like generally is not friend to like. It remains
therefore, that the indifferent, in itself neither good nor evil, is
friend to the good.*

Yet hold! Are we on the right scent? What reason is there
to determine, on the part of the indifferent, attach-
canvassed. ment tothe good? It will only have such attachment
Ifthe In- | under certain given circumstances: when, though
friendtothe neither good nor evil in itself, it has nevertheless evil
Good, itis, associated with it, of which it desires to be rid. Thus
iy the con the body in itself is neither good nor evil: but when

tact of felt diseased, it has evil clinging to it, and becomes in
evil, fromie consequence of this evil, friendly to the medical art
anxiousto asaremedy. But this is true only so long as the evil
sorape- is only apparent, and not real: so long as it is a mere

superficial appendage, and has not become incorporated with the

1 Plato, Lysis, 215-216. τὸς ἱλιγγιῶ ὑπὸ τῆς τοῦ λόγον ἀπορίας
2 Plato, Lysis, 216 C-D: τῷ ὄντι αὖ- —Aéyw τοίνυν ἀπομαντενόμενος, &C.
ΠΕ 3 Plato, Lysis, 216 Ὁ.

Cuar. XX. INDIFFERENT, FRIEND TO GOOD.

18]

essential nature of the body. When evil has become engrained,
the body ceases to be indifferent (t.¢., neither good nor evil), and
loses all its attachment to good. Thus that which determines the
indifferent to become friend of the good, is, the contact and
pressure of accessory evil not in harmony with its own nature,

accompanied by a desire for the cure of such evil.!

Under this head comes the explanation of the philosopher—

the friend or lover of wisdom. The man already wise
is not a lover of wisdom: nor the man thoroughly bad
and stupid, with whose nature ignorance is engrained.
Like does not love like, nor does contrary love con-
trary. The-philosopher is intermediate between the
two: he is not wise, but neither has he yet become
radically stupid and unteachable. He has ignorance
cleaving to him as an evil, but he knows his own
ignorance, and yearns for wisdom as a cure for it.?
The two young collocutors with Sokrates welcome
nation heartily, and Sokrates himself appears for the
moment satisfied with it. But he presently bethinks
himself, and exclaims, Ah! Lysis and Menexenus,
our wealth is all a dream! we have been yielding
again to delusions! Let usonce more examine. You
will admit that all friendship is on account of some-
thing and for the sake of something: it is relative
both to some producing cause, and to some prospective
end. Thus the body, which is in itself neither good
nor evil, becomes when sick a friend'to the medical
art: on account of sickness, which is an evil—and for

Principle
illustrated

by the
philosopher.
is inter-
mediate
condition—
not wise, yet
infull
eeling his
own igno-
rance.

this expla-

Sokrates
dissatisfied.
He origi-
nates a new
suggestion.
The Primum
Amabile,

or Object
originally
dear to us,
per se: by
relation or
resemblance
to which
other ob-
jects be-
come dear.

the sake of health, which is a good. The medical art is dear
to us, because health is dear: but is there any thing behind, for

1 Plato, Lysis, 217 E: Td μήτε κακὸν
ἄρα pyr’ ἀγαθὸν ἐνίοτε κακοῦ παρόντος

φαῖμεν ἂν καὶ τοὺς ἤδη σοφοὺς μηκέτι
φιλοσοφεῖν, εἴτε θεοὶ εἰτε ἄνθρωποί εἰσιν

οὕπω κακόν ἐστιν, ἔστι 8° ὅτε ἤδη τὸ
τοιοῦτον γέγονεν. ἄνν γε. Οὐκοῦν

ὅταν μήπω κακὸν ἢ κακοῦ παρόντος, αὑτὴ
μὲν ἡ παρονσία ἀγαθοῦ αὐτὸ ποιεῖ ἐπιθυ-

μεῖν, ἡ δὲ κακὸν ποιοῦσα ἀποστερεῖ αὐτὸ
τῆς T ἐπιθυμίας ἅμα καὶ τῆς φιλίας τἀγα-
@ov. Ov γὰρ ὅτι ἐστὶν οὔτε κακὸν οὔτ᾽
ἀγαθόν," ἀλλὰ κακόν" φίλον δὲ ἀγαθῷ
«κακὸν οὐκ ἦν.

2 Plato, Lysis, 218 A. διὰ ταῦτα δὴ

οὗτοι οὐδ᾽ ad ἐκείνους φιλοσοφεῖν τοὺς
οὕτως ἄγνοιαν ἔχοντας ὥστε κακοὺς εἶναι"
κακὸν γὰρ καὶ ἁμαθὴ οὐδένα φιλοσοφεῖν.
λείπονται δὴ οἱ ἔχοντες μὲν τὸ κακὸν
τοῦτο, τὴν ἄγνοιαν, μήπω δὲ ὑπ᾽ αὑτοῦ
- ᾿ eo .ϑ a J 8 μ᾿
ὄντες ἀγνώμονες μηδ᾽ ἀμαθεῖς, ἀλλ᾽ ἔτι
ἡγούμενοι μὴ εἰδέναι ἃ μὴ ἴσασιν. διὸ δὴ
φιλοσοφοῦσιν οἱ οὔτε ἀγαθοὶ οὔτε κακοί
ww ὄντες. ὅσοι δὲ κακοὶ, οὐ φιλοσοφοῦ-
σιν. οὐδὲ οἱ ἀγαθοί.

Compare Plato, Symposion, 204.

182 LYSIS. Cuar. XX.

the sake of which health also isdear? It is plain that we cannot
push the series of references onward for ever, and that we must
come ultimately to something which is dear per se, not from
reference to any ulterior aliud. We must come to some primum
amabile, dear by its own nature, to which all other dear things
refer, and from which they are derivatives! It is this primum
amabile which is the primitive, essential, and constant, object of
our affections: we love other things only from their being
associated with it. Thus suppose a father tenderly attached to
his son, and that the son has drunk hemlock, for ‘which wine is
an antidote ; the father will come by association to prize highly,
not merely the wine which saves his son’s life, but even the cup
in which the wine is contained. Yet it would be wrong to say
that he prizes the wine or the cup as much as his son: for the
truth is, that all his solicitude is really on behalf of his son, and
extends only in a derivative and secondary way to the wine and
the cup. So about gold and silver: we talk of prizing highly
gold and silver—but this is incorrect, for what we really prize is,
not gold, but the ulterior something, whatever it be, for the
attainment of which gold and other instrumental means are
accumulated. . In general terms—when we say that B is dear on
account of A, we are really speaking of A under the name of B.
What is really dear, is that primitive object of love, prunum
amabile, towards which all the affections which we bear to other
things, refer and tend.?

Is it then true (continues Sokrates) that good is our primum
The cause of amabile, and dear to us in itself? If so, is it dear to
joveisdesire. us on account of evil? that is, only as a remedy for
ro ἀοεῖτο evil; so that if evil were totally banished, good would
isakin tous cease to be prized? Is it true that evil is the cause
Or otrow™ why any thing is dear to us?® This cannot be: be-

1 Plato, Lysis, 219 C-D. “Ap’ od» 3 Plato, Lysis, 220 Ὁ. We may see
οὐκ ἀνάγκη ἀπε νεῖν ἡμᾶς οὕτως Uvran, that in this chapter Plato runs into
καὶ ἀφικέσθαι ἐπί τινα ἀρχὴν, οὐκέτ᾽ a confusion between τὸ διά τι and τὸ
ἑπανοίσει ἐπ᾽ ἄλλο φίλον, add’ ἥξει ἐπ’ ἕνεκά τον, which two he began by care-
ἐκεῖνο ὅ ἐστι πρῶτον ῴ iAo οὗ ἕνεκα fully ἀἰθυακαϊαν ας. Thus in 218 Ὁ he
καὶ τάλλα ν πάντα φίλα εἶναι; says, ὁ φίλος ἐστὶ τ ἕλος-- ἕνεκά τον
2 Be γα Αι c. 87, p. 220 Β. Ὅσα καὶ διά τι. Again 219 δ r

γάρ φαμεν φίλα εἶναι ἡμῖν ἕνεκα φίλου τῆς ἰατρικῆς φίλον ἐστίν, διὰ τὴν νό-
τινός, ἐτέρῳ ῥήματι φαινόμεθα λέγοντες σον, ἐνεκα τῆς νγιείας. This isa
αὐτό" φίλον δὲ τῷ Sure κινδυνεύει very clear and important distinction.
ἐκεῖνο αὐτὸ εἶναι, εἰς ὃ πᾶσαι αὗται t is continued in 3 61 ‘

ai λεγόμεναι φιλίαι τελεντῶσιν. κακὸν τἀγαθὸν ἡγαπῶμεν καὶ ἐφιλοῦμεν,

Ciap. XX. DESIRE, THE CAUSE OF LOVE. 183

cause even if all evil were‘ banished, the appetites and desires,
such of them as were neither good nor evil, would still remain -
and the things which gratify those appetites will be dear to us.
It is not therefore true that evil is the cause of things being dear
to us. We have just found out another cause for loving and
being loved—desire. He who desires, loves what he desires and
as long as he desires : he desires moreover that of which he is in
want, and he is in want of that which has been taken away from
him—of his own.! It is therefore this own which is the appro-
priate object of desire, friendship, and love. If you two, Lysis
and Menexenus, love each other, it is because you are somehow
of kindred nature with each other. The lover would not become -
ἃ lover, unless there were, between him and his beloved, a certain
kinship or affinity in mind, disposition, tastes, or form. We
love, by necessary law, that which has a natural affinity to us ;
so that the real and genuine lover may be certain of a return of
affection from his beloved.?

But is there any real difference between what is akin and what
is like? We must assume that there is: for we good ἱα οἴ
showed before, that like was useless to like, and nature akin

toevery one,

therefore not dear to like. Shall we say that good

ὡς φάρμακον ὃν τοῦ κακοῦ τὸ ἀγαθόν, τὸ
δὲ κακόν νόσημα. But in 220 ὸ δὲ
τῷ ὄντι φίλον πᾶν τοὐναντίον τούτον
φαίνεται πεφυκός" φίλον γὰρ ἡμῖν
ἀνεφάνη ὃν ἐχθροῦ ἕνεκα. To
make the reasoning consistent with
what had gone before, these two last
words ought to be exchanged for διὰ τὸ
ἐχθρόν. Plato had laid down the doc-
trine that good is loved—éca τὸ κακόν,
not ἕνεκα τοῦ κακοῦ. is loved on
account of evil, but for the sake of ob-
taining a remedy to or cessation of the
ev
Steinhart (in his note on Hieron.
Miiller’s translation of Plato, Ὁ. 268)
this a ‘“sophistisches Rathsel-
iel” ; and he notes other portions of
the dialogue which “ remind us of the
deceptive tricks of the Sophists” (die
Trugspiele der Sophisten, see pp. 222-
224-227-230). He praises Plato here
for his ‘ pleasan on the de-
ceptive arte of the Sophists”. Admit-
ting that Plato puts forward sophistical
quibbles with the word φίλος, he tells
us that this is suitable for the purpose

evil is alien

of puzzling the contentious yo man
Menexenus. The confusion between
ἕνεκά τον and διά τι (noticed above)
Src tinea ety
amo e fine jes n otagoras,
Prodikus, or some of the Sophists. I
can see nothing in it except an uncon-
scious inaccuracy in Plato's reasoning.

1 Plato, Lysis, 221 E. Td ἐπιθυ-
μοῦν, οὗ ἂν ἐνδεὲς ἧ, τούτον ἐπιθυμεῖ---
ἐνδεὲς δὲ γίγνεται οὗ ἄν τις ἀφαιρῆται
-- τοῦ οἰκείον δή, μὴ ἔοικεν, ὅ τε ἔρως
καὶ y φιλία καὶ ἡ ἐπιθυμία χάνει
οὖσα. This is the same doctrine as
that which we read, expanded and
cast into a myth with comic turn, in
the speech of Aristophanes in the
5 posion, Pp. 191-192-198. ἕκαστος
οὖν ἡμῶν ἔστιν ἀνθρώπον σύμβολον, are
i ὥ i ψῆτται df ἑνὸς
δύο. ὶ ῦ é
ξύμβολον (191 D)—Sexaiws ἂν ὑμνοῖμεν

2 Plato, Lysis, 221-222.

184 LYSI8. Cuap. XX.

toevery one. is of a nature akin to every one, and evil of a nature
tency with foreign to every one? If so, then there can be no
whathas = friendship except between one good man and ano-
viously ther good man. But this too has been proved to
be impossible. All our tentatives have been alike
unsuccessful.

In this dilemma (continues Sokrates, the narrator) I was about
Failure of to ask assistance from some of the older men around.
the enquiry. But the tutors of Menexenus and Lysis came up to us
dialogue. and insisted on conveying their pupils home—the
hour being late. As the youths were departing I said to them—
- Well, we must close our dialogue with the confession, that we
have all three made a ridiculous figure in it: I, an old man, as
well as you two youths. Our hearers will go away declaring,
that we fancy ourselves to be friends each to the other two ; but
that we have not yet been able to find out what a friend is!

Thus ends the main discussion of the Lysis: not only without
Remarks. DY positive result, but with speakers and hearers
No positive more puzzled than they were at the beginning:
kratic pur- having been made to feel a great many difficulties
[sing the’ Which they never felt before. Nor can I perceive
fi any general purpose running through the dialogue,
e the except that truly Sokratic and Platonic purpose—To

Pet Show, by cross-examination on the commonest words
knowledge. and ideas, that what every one appears to know, and
talks about most confidently, no one really knows or can dis-
tinctly explain.? This is the meaning of the final declaration

1 Plato, Lysis, 223 B. Νὺν μὲν κατα- Stallbaum, and nearly all the other
γέλαστοι γεγόναμεν ἐγώ τε, γερὼν ἀνήρ, critics dissent from this view: they
καὶ ὑμεῖς, &C. place the L as an early dialogue,

2 Among the many points of anal along with idés and Lachés, an-
between the Lysis and the Charmidls terior to the Protagoras (K. F. Her-
one is, That both of them are decl mann, Gesch. und Syst. Plat. Phil. pp.
to be spurious and unworthy of Plato, 447-448; Stallbaum, Proleg. ad Lys. p.
by Socher as well as by Ast (Ast, 90 (110 2nd ed.); Steinhart, Einl. p. 221)
Platon’s Leben, pp. 429-434; Socher, near to or during the government of the
Ueber Platon, pp. 1387-144). Thirty. All of them profess to discover

Schleie er ranks the Lysis as in the Lysis “‘adolescentiz vestigia ".
second in his Platonic series of dia- Ast and Socher characterise the
logues, an appendix to the Phedrus dialogue as a tissue of subtle sophistry
(Einl p. 174 seq.); K. F. Hermann, and eristic contradiction, such as (in

Crap. XX. IGNORANCE ON COMMON TOPICS. 185

put into the mouth of Sokrates. “We believe ourselves to be
each other’s friends, yet we none of us know what a friend is.”
The question is one, which no one had ever troubled himself to
investigate, or thought it requisite to ask from others. Every
one supposed himself to know, and every one had in his memory
an aggregate of conceptions and beliefs which he accounted tanta-
mount to knowledge: an aggregate generated by the unconscious
addition of a thousand facts and associations, each separately un-
important and often inconsistent with the remainder: while no
rational analysis had ever been applied to verify the consistency
of this spontaneous product, or to define the familiar words in
which it is expressed. The reader is here involved in a cloud of
confusion respecting Friendship. No way out of it is shown, and
how is he to find one? He must take the matter into his own
active and studious meditation : which he has never yet done,
though the word is always in his mouth, and though the topic is
among the most common and familiar, upon which “the swain
treads daily with his clouted shoon ”.

This was a proper subject for a dialogue of Search. In the
dialogue Lysis, Plato describes Sokrates as engaged in Subject of
one of these searches, handling, testing, and dropping, Lysis suited

. . . . or a Dia-
one point of view after another, respecting the idea logue of
and foundation of friendship. He speaks, professedly, Search. ὀ
as a diviner or guesser ; following out obscure prompt- Sokrates.
ings which he does not yet understand himself.! In defective ©
this character, he suggests several different explana- ane a
tions, not only distinct but inconsistent with each showing
other ; each of them true toa certain extent, under cach is de
certain conditions and circumstances: but each of ‘tive.

their opinion Plato cannot have com-
posed. um con ‘the so-
phistry, bat contends that it is put by
4 ate intentionally, ‘oC iserecin purpose of
eri exposing.

Sophists and their dialectical ricks :

“‘ludibrii caus&” (p. 88); “ut illustri
aliquo exemplo demonstretur dialec
uam adolescentes magno
o sectabantur, nihil esse

argutiarom

eaptatrioem,” &c. (p. 87). Nevertheleas

he contends thet slong vith this de
ry ma ere

serious reasoning which may be easily

distinguished (p. 87), but which cer-
(Compare he “OP not clearly point out.
(Compare 108-9-14-15, 2nd ed.)

hlelermach: tor and Steinhart also (pp.
222-224-227) admit the sophistry in
which Sokrates is here made to indulge.
But Steinhart maintains that there is

ec- an assignable philosophical purpose in

the diane, which Plato pipe rposely

ped up in oni atical guage,
but vot which he (Steinhart) professes
to give the colton: (p. 228).

1 Plato, Lysis, 216 Ὁ. λέγω τοίνυν
ἀπομαντενόμενος, &c.

186 LYSIS. Cuap. XX.

them untrue, when we travel beyond those limits : other con-
tradictory considerations then interfering. To multiply defective
explanations, and to indicate why each is defective, is the whole
business of the dialogue.

Schleiermacher discovers in this dialogue indications of a
The process positive result not plainly enunciated : but he admits
of trialand that Aristotle did not discover them—nor can I be-

error is

better ilus- lieve them to have been intended by the author.}
a search But most critics speak slightingly of it, as alike scep-
without re- tical and sophistical: and some even deny its authen-
with result. ticity on these grounds. Plato might have replied by
of thedia- saying that he intended it as a specimen illustrating
lo ie for (ἢ process of search for an unknown questtum ; and
ing minds. as an exposition of what can be said for, as well as
against, many different points of view. The process of trial and
error, the most general fact of human intelligence, is even better
illustrated when the search is unsuccessful: because when a
result is once obtained, most persons care for nothing else and
forget the antecedent blunders. To those indeed, who ask only
to hear the result as soon as it is found, and who wait for others
_ to look for it—such a dialogue as the Lysis will appear of little
value. But to any one who intends to search for it himself, or
to study the same problem for himself, the report thus presented
of a previous unsuccessful search, is useful both as guidance and
warning. Every one of the tentative solutions indicated in the
Lysis has something in its favour, yet is nevertheless inadmis-
sible. To learn the grounds which ultimately compel us to reject
what at first appears admissible, is instruction not to be despised ;
at the very least, it helps to preserve us from mistake, and to
state the problem in the manner most suitable for obtaining a
solution.

In truth, no one general solution is attainable, such as Plato
Sublect of here professes to search for.2 In one of the three
handied | Xenophontic dialogues wherein the subject of friend-

1 Schleiermacher, Einleitung zum We read in his article Etymologie,
Lysis, i. p. 177. in the Encyclopédie (vol iii. pp. 70-72

2 Turgot has some excellent remarks of his uvres mplets) :
on the hopelessness of such problems as *<Qu’on se répresente la foule des
that which Plato propounds, here as acceptions du mot esprit, depuis son

well as in other dialogues, to find defil- sens primitif sptritus, haleine, j "a
nitions of common and vague terms. ceux qu’on lui donne dans la chimi

Cap. XX. USEFULNESS OF NEGATIVE RESULT. 187

both by
the Xeno-
hontic

ship is discussed we find the real Sokrates presenting
it with a juster view of its real complications. The

same remark may be made upon Aristotle’s manner of perk ae
handling friendship in the Ethics. He seems plainly Aristotle.
to allude to the Lysis (though not mentioning it by name) ; and
to profit by it at least in what he puts out of consideration, if not
in what he brings forward.? He discards the physical and cos-
mical analogies, which Plato borrows from Empedokles and
Herakleitus, as too remote and inapplicable : he considers that
the question must be determined by facts and principles relating
to human dispositions and conduct. In other ways, he circum-
scribes the problem, by setting aside (what Plato includes) all
objects of attachment which are not capable of reciprocating
attachment.? The problem, as set forth here by Plato, is con-
ceived in great generality. In what manner does one man be-
come the friend of another?‘ How does a man become the object

dans la littérature, dans la jurispru-
dence, esprit acide, esprit de Montaigne,
esprit des loix, &c.—qu’on essaie d'ex-
traire de toutes ces acceptions une idée

ui soit commune ἃ toutes—on verra
sévanouir tous les caractéres qui dis-
tinguent l’esprit de toute autre chose,
dans quelque sens qu’on le prenne. . .
La multitude et lincompatibilité des
acceptions du mot esprit, sont telles,
que personne n’a été tenté de les com-
prendre toutes dans une seule défni-
tion, et de définir esprit en général Χογνὼ:
Mais le vice de cette méthode n’est μονοῦντες ἐναντιοῦνται" πολεμικὸν δὲ
pas moins réel lorsqu’il n’est pas assez καὶ ἔρις καὶ ὀργή" καὶ δυσμενὲς μὲν ὁ
sensible pour empécher qu’on ne la τοῦ πλεονεκτεῖν ἔρως, μισητὸν δὲ 6

tem of Logic, Book IV. chap. 4,
8

1 See Xenophon, Memor. ii. 4-5-6.
In the last of these three conversations
(8. 21-22), Sokrates says to Kritobulus
᾿Αλλ᾽ ἔχει μὲν ποικίλως πως ταῦτα, ὦ
Κριτόβονλε" φύσει γὰρ ἔχονσιν οἱ ἄν-
θρωποι τὰ μὲν φιλικά" δέονται τε γὰρ
ἀλλήλων, καὶ ἐλεοῦσι, καὶ συνεργοῦντες
ὠφελοῦσι, καὶ τοῦτο συνιέντες χάριν
ἔχουσιν ἀλλήλοις, τὰ δὲ πολεμικά" τά
τε γὰρ αὐτὰ καλὰ καὶ ἡδέα νομίζοντες
ὑπὲρ τούτων μάχονται, καὶ δι

suive.

‘“‘A mesure que le nombre et la
diversité des acceptions diminue, I’ab-
surdité s’affoiblit: et quand elle dis-
it, il reste encore ἃ ‘erreur, 3 ‘ose
que presque tou es définitions
ov Jon annonce qu’on va déhuir les
choses dans le sens le plus général, ont
ce défaut, et ne définissent véritable-
ment rien: parceaie leurs auteurs, en
voulant ermer toutes les acceptions
d’un mot, ont entrepris une chose im-
possible: je veux , de rassembler
sous une seule idée générale des idées
trés différentes entre elles, et qu'un
méme nom n’a jamais pu désigner que
successivement, en cessant en quelque
sorte d’étre le méme mot.”

See also the remarks of Mr. John
Stuart Mill on the same subject. Sys-

φθόνος.

This observation οὗ Sokrates is very
true and valuable—that the causes of
friendship and the causes of enmity
are both of them equally natural, i.e.
equally interwoven with the constant
conditions of individual and social life.
This is very different from the vague,
partial, and encomiastic predicates with
which τὸ φύσει is often decorated else-
where by Sokrates himself, as well as
by Plato and Aristotle.

2 Aristot. Eth. Nikom. viii. ip.
1165 b. Compare Plato, Lysis, 214 A—

3 Aristot. Ethic. Nik. viii. 2, p. 1155,
b. 28; Plato, Lysis, 212 D.

4 Plato, Lysis, 212 A: ὅντινα τρόπον

iyveras φίλος ἕτερος ἑτέρον. 223 ad fin. :
ὃ, τι ἐστὶν ὁ φίλος.

188

LYSIS.

CHap. XX.

of friendship or love from another? What is that object towards
which our love or friendship is determined ? These terms are 80
large, that they include everything belonging to the Tender

Emotion generally.'

The debate in the Lysis is partly verbal : ic. respecting the

Debate in

word φίλος, whether it means the person loving, or
the person loved, or whether it shall be confined to
those cases in which the love is reciprocal, and then
applied to both. Herein the question is about the
meaning of words—a word and nothing more. The
following portions of the dialogue enter upon ques-
tions not verbal but real— Whether we are disposed
to love what is like to ourselves, or what is unlike or
opposite to ourselves?” Though both these are occa-
sionally true, it is shown that as general explanations

lenging. neither of them will hold. But this is shown by
means of the following assumptions, which not only those whom
Plato here calls the “very clever Disputants,”? but Sokrates him-
self at other times, would have called in question, viz. : “That
bad men cannot be friends to each other—that men like to each

1 See the chapter on Tender Emo-
tion in Mr. Bain's elaborate classifica-
tion and description of the Emotions.
‘The Emotions and the Will,’ ch. vii.
P. M seq. (Brd od. p. 124

In the Lysis, 216 C-D, we read,
among the suppositions thrown out by
So » about τὸ φίλον---κινδυνεύει
κατὰ τὴν ἀρχαίαν παροιμίαν τὸ καλὸν
φίλον εἶναι. ἔοικε γοὺν μαλακῷ τινι καὶ
λείῳ καὶ λιπαρῷ" kis καὶ tows ῥᾳδίως
διολισθαίΐίνει καὶ διαδύεται ἡμᾶς, ἅτε
τοιοῦτον ὄν" ὰρ τἀγαθὸν καλὸν
elvan. This ,Bllasion a the soft and

Θ smoo not very clear ; a passage
in Mr. | Bain’s chapter serves to illus-

** Among the sensations of the senses
we find some that have the power of
awakening tender emotion. 6 sen-

sations that incline to tenderness are,
in the first piace: the effects of ve
tle or soft stimulants, such as soft
aches, gentle sounds, slow move-
ments, temperate warmth, mild sun-
shine. These sensations must be felt
in order to produce the effect, which is
mental and not ly organic. We
have seen that an acute sensation raises
a vigorous muscular expression, as in

wonder ; a contrast to this is exhibited
by gentle re or mild radiance.

ence tenderness is passive emotion
by inence: we see it flourish-
ing in the quiescence of the mov-
ing members. otely there may be
= urge gmount of pero iy nooo

, but the proper ou accom -
ment of it δ organic not muscular.”

That the sensations of the soft and
the smooth dispose to the Tender
Emotion is here pointed out as a fact
in human nature, agreeably to the
comparison of Plato. Mr. Bain’s trea-
tise has the rare merit of describ
fully the physical as well as the men
characteristics of each separate emo

2 Plato, Lysis, 216 A.: οἱ πάνσοφοι
ἄνδρες οἱ ἀντιλογικοί, ὧς. Yet Plato,
in the Phzdrus and Symposion, indi-
cates colloquial debate as the t
generating cause of the most in
and durable friendship. Aristeides
the Rhetor says, Orat. xlvii. (Πρὸς
Καπίτωνα), p. 418, Dindorf, ἐπεὶ καὶ
Πλάτων τὸ αληθὲς ἁπανταχοῦ τιμᾷ, καὶ
τὰς ἐν τοῖς λόγοις συνουσίας a

φιλίας ἀληθινῆς ὑπολαμβάνει.

Cnap. XX. VERBAL AND REAL QUESTIONS. 189

other (therefore good men as well as bad) can be of no use to
_each other, and therefore there can be no basis of friendship be-
tween them—that the good man is self-sufficing, stands in need
of no one, and therefore will not love any one.”! All these
assumptions Sokrates would have found sufficient reason for
challenging, if they had been advanced by Protagoras or any
other opponents. They stand here as affirmed by him; but here,
as elsewhere in Plato, the reader must apply his own critical
intellect, and test .what he reads for himself.

10 is thus shown, or supposed to be shown, that the persons
who love are neither the Good, nor the Bad: and that
the objects loved, are neither things or persons similar,
nor opposite, to the persons loving. Sokrates now ad-
verts to the existence of a third category—Persons
who are neither good, nor bad, but intermediate
between the two—Objects which are intermediate be-

tween likeness and opposition. He announces as his
having a

own conjecture,? that the Subject of friendly or loving
feeling, is, that which is neither good nor evil: the
Object of the feeling, Good: and the cause of the
feeling, the superficial presence of evil, which the

superficial

tinge of evil,
and desiring
good, to es-
cape from it.

subject desires to see removed.? The evil must be present in a
superficial and removable manner—like whiteness in the hair
caused by white paint, not by the grey colour of old age. So-
krates applies this to the state of mind of the philosopher, or
lover of knowledge : who is not yet either thoroughly good or
thoroughly bad,—either thoroughly wise or thoroughly unwise—
but in a state intermediate between the two : ignorant, yet con-
scious of his own ignorance, and feeling it as a misfortune whi
he was anxious to shake off.é

1 Plato, Lysis, 214-215. The dis-
course of Cicero, De Amicitif, is com-
posed in a style of pleasing rhetoric ;
suitable to Lelius, an ancient Roman
senator and active politician, who ex-
pressly renounces the accurate subtlety
of Grecian philosophers (v. 18). There
is little in it which we can com

pare
with the Platonic Lysis; but Iobserve μ

that he too, giving expression to his
own feelings, maintains that there can
be no friondship except between the

good and virtuous: a position which is
refuted by the “ nef vox,” cited by
himself as spoken by C. Blossius, xi. 87.

2 Plato, Lysis, 216 Ὁ. λέγω τοίνυν
ἀπομαντενόμενος, ἄς.

3 Plato, Lysis, 216-217.

4 Plato, Lysis, 218 Ὁ. λείπονται δὴ
οἱ ἔχοντες μὲν τὸ κακὸν τοῦτο, τὴν ἄγνοιαν
ἥπω δὲ ὑπ᾽ αὐτοῦ ὄντες ἀγνώμονες μηδ
ἀμαθεῖς, ἀλλ᾽ ἔτι ἡγούμενοι μὴ εἰδέναι ἃ
μὴ ἴσασι" διὸ δὴ φιλοσοφοῦσιν οἱ οὔτε
ἀγαθοὶ οὔτε κακοί πω ὄντες ὅσοι δὲ κακοί,

190 LYSIS. Cuar. XX.

This meaning of philosophy, though it is not always and con-
Thisgeneral *istently maintained throughout the Platonic writings,
theory illus- ig important as expanding and bringing into system
thecaseof the position laid down by Sokrates in the Apology.
sopher or He there disclaimed all pretensions to wisdom, but
lover of he announced himself as a philosopher, in the above
Painfulcon- literal sense: that is, as ignorant, yet as painfully
Ofignorance conscious of his own ignorance, and anxiously search-

theattri- = ing for wisdom as a corrective to it: while most men
bute of the

philoso- were equally ignorant, but were unconscious of their
ΝΑ wlte own ignorance, believed themselves to be already
krates and wise, and delivered confident opinions without ever
this. attri: having analysed the matters on which they spoke.

The conversation of Sokrates (as I have before re-
marked) was intended, not to teach wisdom, but to raise men out
of this false persuasion of wisdom, which he believed to be the
natural state of the human mind, into that mental condition
which he called philosophy. His Elenchus made them conscious
of their ignorance, anxious to escape from it, and prepared for
mental efforts in search of knowledge: in which search Sokrates
assisted them, but without declaring, and even professing inabi-
lity to declare, where that truth lay in which the search was to
end. He considered that this change was in itself a great and
serious improvement, converting what was evil, radical, and
engrained—into evil superficial and removable; which was a
preliminary condition to any positive acquirement. The first
thing to be done was to create searchers after truth, men who
would look at the subject for themselves with earnest attention,
and make up their own individual convictions. Even if nothing
ulterior were achieved, that alone would be a great deal. Such
was the scope of the Sokratic conversation ; and such the concep-
tion of philosophy (the capital peculiarity which Plato borrowed
from Sokrates), which is briefly noted in this passage of the
Lysis, and developed in other Platonic dialogues, especially in
the Symposion,’ which we shall reach presently.

Still, however, Sokrates is not fully satisfied with this hypo-

οὐ φιλοσοφοῦσιν, οὐδὲ οἱ ἀγαθοί. Com- enim inquinati sumus, sed infecti™.
re the phrase of Seneca, Epist. 59, p. 1 Plat-. Sympos. 202-208-204. Phad-
1, Gronov.: “ Elui difficile est: non rus, 278 Ὁ.

Cap. XX. THE PRIMUM AMABILE. 191

thesis, but passes on to another. If we love anything, we
must love it (he says) for the sake of something. another
This implies that there must exist, in the background, {hoory of

a something which is the primitive and real object of The Pri-
affection. The various things which we actually pie or
love, are not loved for their own sake, but for the original and
sake of this primum amabile, and as shadows projected fect of Love.
by it: just as a man who loves his son, comes to love
by association what is salutary or comforting to his are loved
son—or as he loves money for the sake of what money association
will purchase. The primum amabile, in the view of the object
Sokrates, is Good; particular things loved, are loved 1s, Good.
as shadows of good.

This is a doctrine which we shall find reproduced in other
dialogues. We note with interest here, thatitappears 1. ont
illustrated, by a statement of the general law of men- by Plato of
tal association—the calling up of one idea by other fhe gener#l
ideas or by sensations, and the transference of affec- mental on.
tions from one object to others which have been
apprehended in conjunction with it, either as antecedents or
consequents. Plato states this law clearly in the Phedon and
elsewhere :! but he here conceives it imperfectly: for he seems
to believe that, if an affection be transferred by association from
ἃ primitive object A, to other objects, B, C, Ὁ, &c., A always
continues to be the only real object of affection, while B, C, D,
&c., operate upon the mind merely by carrying it back to A.
The affection towards B, C, Ὁ, &c., therefore is, in the view of
Plato, only the affection for A under other denominations and
disguises.2 Now this is doubtless often the case ; but often also,
perhaps even more generally, it is not the case. "After ἃ certain
length of repetition and habit, all conscious reference to the
primitive object of affection will commonly be left out, and the
affection towards the secondary object will become a feeling both
substantive and immediate. What was originally loved as means,
for the sake of an ulterior end, will in time come to be loved as

1 Plato, Phedon, 78-74. φίλα εἶναι ἡμῖν ἕνεκα φίλον τινός, ἑτέρῳ
It is declared differently, and more ῥήματι φαινόμεθα λέγοντες αὐτό" φίλον
clearly, by Aristotle in the treatise Περὶ δὲ τῷ ὄντι κινδυνεύει ἐκεῖνο αὐτὸ εἶναι,
ie καὶ i oo Be . 451-452. es ὃ πᾶσαι αὗται αἱ λεγόμεναι φιλίαι

σα γάρ φαμεν τελεντῶσιν.

192 LYSIS. Cuap. XX.

an end for itself; and to constitute a new centre of force, from
whence derivatives may branch out. It may even come to be
loved more vehemently than any primitive object of affection, if
it chance to accumulate in itself derivative influences from many
of those objects. This remark naturally presents itself, when
we meet here for the first time, distinctly stated by Plato, the
important psychological doctrine of the transference of affections
by association from one object to others.

The primum amabtle, here introduced by Sokrates, is described
| in restricted terms, as valuable merely to correct evil,
the Primum and as having no value per se, if evil were assumed
Amabile, not to exist. In consequence chiefly of this restric-
ducedby tion, Sokrates discards it as unsatisfactory. Such
with nume- restriction, however, is noway essential to the doc-
rous deri- trine: which approaches to, but is not coincident
ects of with, the Ideal Good or Idea of Good, described in
tonic Idea. Other dialogues as what every one yearns after and
Generic _ aspires to, though without ever attaining it and
of Aristotle, without even knowing what it is? The Platonic
guished by Idea was conceived as a substantive, intelligible, Ens,

imfrom distinct in its nature from all the particulars bearing
anal the same name, and separated from them all by a gulf
communion. hich admitted no gradations of nearer and farther—
yet communicating itself to, or partaken by, all of them, in some
inexplicable way. Aristotle combated this doctrine, denying
the separate reality of the Idea, and admitting only a common
generic essence, dwelling in and pervading the particulars, but
pervading them all equally. The general word connoting this
generic unity was said by Aristotle (retaining the Platonic
phraseology) to be λεγόμενον κατὰ μίαν ἰδέαν or καθ᾽ ἕν.

But apart from and beyond such generic unity, which implied
a common essence belonging to all, Aristotle recognised a looser,
more imperfect, yet more extensive, communion, founded upon

1There is no er illustration ‘ Analysis of the Human Mind,’ chap-
of this than the love of money, which ters xxi. and xxii., and by Professor
is the very example that Plato himself Bain in bis works on the Senses and
here

th
The i tpoint to which Ihere 47 p. 404 seq. ed. 8;
call attention, in respect to the law of Emotions and the Will, iv. sect.
Mental Association, is forcibly illus- 4-5 B 428 seq. (8rd ed. p. seq.)
trated by Mr. James Mill in his 3 505-506.

Cuap. XX. GENERIC AND ANALOGICAL AGGREGATES. 193

common relationship towards some ’Apx}—First Principle—or
First Object. Such relationship was not always the same in
kind: it might be either resemblance, concomitance, antece-
dence or consequence, é&c.: it might also be different in degree,
closer or more remote, direct or indirect. Here, then, there was
room for graduation, or ordination of objects as former and
latter, first, second, third, &., according as, when compared with
each other, they were more or less related to the common root.
This imperfect communion was designated by Aristotle under
the title κατ᾽ ἀναλογίαν, as contrasted with κατὰ γένος : the predi-
cate which affirmed it was said to be applied, not κατὰ μίαν ἰδέαν
or καθ᾽ ἕν, but πρὸς μίαν φύσιν or πρὸς ἕν :1 it was affirmed
neither entirely συνωνύμως (which would imply generic com-
munion), nor entirely ὁμωνύμως (which would be casual and
imply no communion at all), but midway between the two, 80 a8
to admit of ἃ graduated communion, and an arrangement as
former and later, first cousin, or second, third cousin. Members

Ὁ Aristoteles, Stace RL 2 pp. 85.108.

T. 1004, 8. 25-5 2005, 1, s"ipabout tke ‘which
1004, 2536, 1005, a"

τὰ πολλαχῶ νόμον τῷ recover

Beet crys and mong than ὀμάνυκαι ie Ὡς

Inteaedate Eaten @ The two, having
or generical unit

‘unity,
ΠΕ mot eatialy e guivocah, but de: ia
sgnating ἃ κοινὸν κατὶ ἄνολο
a τ λεγόμενα, DUG πρὸς ἐν ὧδ᾽
Or πρὸς ὮΝ φύσιν; ΠΧ a certain
τὸ 80 ὅν Μοιαρόνα rs 1008, τὸ
πρῶτον. js. T. 1008,
ὁ ὅν τὸ δὲ ὃν λόρται μὲ ‘hiv wodhaxe
ἀλλὰ πρὸς ἕν καὶ μίαν sod

194 LYSIS. Caap. XX. .

of the same Genus were considered to be brothers, all on a par:
but wherever there was this graduated cousinship or communion
(signified by the words Former and Later, more or less in degree of
relationship), Aristotle did not admit a common Genus, nor did
Plato admit a Substantive Idea.!

Now the Πρῶτον φίλον or Primum Amabile which we find in
Primum the Lysis, is described as the principium or initial
Amabile of root of one of these imperfectly united aggregates ;

‘with ramifying into many branches more or less distant,
jhe Prima — in obedience to one or other of the different laws of
Aristotle. association. Aristotle expresses the same idea in
them οἱ another form of words: instead of a Primum Ama-
aeatogical —Dile, he gives us a Prima Amicitia —affirming that the

egate, diversities of friendship are not species comprehended

of a peneric under the same genus, but gradations or degeneracies

departing in one direction or other from the First or

pure Friendship. The Primum Amabile, in Plato’s view,

appears to be the Good, though he does not explicitly declare it:

the Prima Amicitia, with Aristotle, is friendship subsisting be-

tween two good persons, who have had sufficient experience to
know, esteem, and trust, each other.?

In regard to the Platonic Lysis, [ have already observed that
The Good 2° Positive result can be found in it, and that all
and Beau- the hypotheses broached are successively negatived.
tifal, con- What is kept before the reader's mind, however, more
objects of than anything else, though not embodied in any

ent distinct formula, is—The Good and the Beautiful
considered as objects of love or attachment.
on the Philébus, infra, chap. 82, vol. 156 ne viii τς om viii. Ζ
Eth. Eudem. vii. 2, 1236, a. 15. The

1 This is attested by Aristotle, Eth. statem A emian
Nik. i. 64, p. 1096, a. 16. Οἱ δὲ κομέ- Tavis thas moro full in the Ruder he
, é

ve διόπερ οὐδὲ τῶν ἀριθμῶν ἰδέαν αχῶς; and in p. 1236 he says ᾿Ανάγκη

κατεσκεύαζον : com c Eu κα “ + of .

dpa τρία φιλίας εἴδη εἶναι, καὶ μήτε
Sbjoct’ that tc havin oreid thes καθ᾽ ἕν ἁπάσας μηθ᾽ ὡς εἴδη ἑνὸς
down a8 a general’ ving yévous, μήτε πάμπαν λέγεσθαι ὁμωνύ-

princip Θ, departed μως" πρὸς μίαν ya t λέ
from it in recognizing an ἰδέαν γαθοῦ καὶ π ons i ν, περ τὸ larpuxéy,
fees τὰχεθὸν was prodicated in all ὡς ‘the whole passage is instructive
as in that of πρός τυ--τὸ δὲ καθ᾽ αὑτὸ “henite song [0 cite.

Cuap. XXL EUTHYDEMODS. 195

CHAPTER XXL
EUTHYDEMUS.

Dramatic vivacity, and comic force, holding up various persons
to ridicule or contempt, are attributes which Plato Dramatic
manifests often and abundantly. But the dialogue in ®24,comic
which these qualities reach their maximum, is, the of the
Euthydémus. Some portions of it approach to the démus.
Nubes of Aristophanes: so that Schleiermacher, Stall- J7dgments
baum, and other admiring critics have some difficulty critics.

in explaining, to their own satisfaction,’ how Plato, the sublime
moralist and lawgiver, can here have admitted so much trifling
and buffoonery. Ast even rejects the dialogue as spurious ;
declaring it to be unworthy of Plato and insisting on various
peculiarities, defects, and even absurdities, which offend his
critical taste. His conclusion in this case has found no favour:
yet I think it is based on reasons quite as forcible as those upon
which other dialogues have been condemned :* upon reasons,
which, even if admitted, might prove that the dialogue was an
inferior performance, but would not prove that Plato was not
the author.

Sokrates recounts (to Kriton) a conversation in which he has
ποῦ been engaged with two Sophists, Euthydémus gceenery ana
and Dionysodorus, in the undressing-room belonging Personages.
to the gymnasium of the Lykeium. There were present, be-
sides, Kleinias, a youth of remarkable beauty and intelligence,
cousin of the great Alkibiades—Ktesippus, an adult man, yet
still young, friend of Sokrates and devotedly attached to Kleinias

r, Einleitung zum Euthydemos, vol. fii. pp. 400-403-407 :

Stallbann Proles.’ in Euth der
u em.
3 Ast, Blaton’s Leben Schritien, pp. 408-418.

196 EUTHYDEMUB. Cuap. ΧΥΧΤ.

—and a crowd of unnamed persons, partly friends of Kleinias,
partly admirers and supporters of the two Sophists.

This couple are described and treated throughout by Sokrates,
Thetwo With the utmost admiration and respect: that is, in
Sophists, terms designatix., such feelings, but intended as the
musand extreme of irony or caricature. They are masters of
Dionyso- {Ἐφ art of Contention, in its three varieties '\—]. Arms,
mannerin and the command of soldiers. 2. Judicial and poli-
whi ond tical rhetoric, fighting an opponent before the assem_
presented. bled Dikasts or people. 3. Contentious Dialectic—
they can reduce every respondent to a contradiction, if he will
only continue to answer their questions—whether what he says be
true or false? Ali or each of these accomplishments they are
prepared to teach to any pupil who will pay the required fee:
the standing sarcasm of Plato against the paid teacher, occurring
here as in so many other places. Lastly, they are brothers, old
and almost toothless—natives of Chios, colonists from thence
to Thurii, and exiles from Thurii and resident at Athens, yet
visiting other cities for the purpose of giving lessons.* Their
dialectic skill is described as a recent acquisition,—made during
their old age, only in the preceding year,—and completing their
excellence as professors of the tripartite Eristic. But they now
devote themselves to it more than to the other two parts. More-
over they advertise themselves as teachers of virtue.

The two Sophists, having announced themselves as competent
Conversa- to teach virtue and stimulate pupils to a virtuous life,
on with are entreated by Sokrates to exercise their beneficent
Kleinias, influence upon the youth Kleinias, in whose improve-
Sokrates, ment he as well as Ktesippus feels the warmest in-
the two terest. Sokrates gives a specimen of what he wishes
Sophists. by putting a series of questions himself. Euthydémus
follows, and begins questioning Kleinias ; who, after answering

1 Plato, Euthyd. pp. 271-272. the inference, though not very certain,

3 Plat. Euthyd. -p. 272 Β. ἐξελέγχειν is plansi usible.
τὸ ἀεὶ “λεγόμενον, ὁμοίως ἐάν τε ψεῦδος teinhart, in his Einleitung zum
ἐάν τ' ἀληθὲς ἢ: Ὁ. 275 Ο. οὐδὲν διαφέ- Euthydemos (vol. ii p. 2 of Hieronym.
pet, ἐὰν μόνον ἐθέλῃ ἀποκρίνεσθαι 6 vea- Miiller’s translation of Plato) repeats
yloxos. these antecedents of Euthydemus and

8 Plat. Eathyd. p. 273 ΒΟ. “‘ quam- Dionysodorus, as recited in the dialogue
vis essent setate grandiores et edentuli,” before us, as if they were matter of real

says Stallbaum in his Proleg. p. 10. history, exemplifications of the cha-
He seems to infer this from page 294C; racter of the called Sophists. He

Crap. XXI. REAL AND VERBAL QUESTIONS. 197

three or four successive questions, is forced to contradict himself.
Dionysodorus then takes up the last answer of Kleinias, puts him
through another series of interrogations, and makes him contra-
dict himself again. In this manner the two Sophists toss the
youthful respondent backwards and forwards to each other, each
contriving to entangle him in some puzzle and contradiction.
They even apply the same process to Sokrates, who cannot avoid
being entangled in the net; and to Ktesippus, who becomes
exasperated, and retorts upon them with contemptuous asperity.
The alternate interference of the two Sophists is described with
great smartness and animation ; which is promoted by the use of
the dual number, peculiar to the Greek language, employed by
Plato in speaking of them.
This mode of dialectic, conducted by the two Sophists, is
interrupted on two several occasions by a counter- Contrast
exhibition of dialectic on the part of Sokratese who, between
under colour of again showing to the couple a speci- ἔμ ὑψο
men of that which he wishes them to do, puts two modes of in-
successive batches of questions to Kleiniasin hisown
manner.! The contrast between Sokrates and the two Sophists,
in the same work, carried on respectively by him and by them,
of interrogating Kleinias, is evidently meant as one of the special
matters to arrest attention in the dialogue. The questions put
by the couple are made to turn chiefly on verbal quibbles and
ambiguities: they are purposely designed to make the respondent
contradict himself, and are proclaimed to be certain of bringing
ahout this result, provided the respondent will conform to the
laws of dialectic— by confining his answer to the special point of
the question, without adding any qualification of his own, or
asking for farther explanation from the questioner, or reverting
to any antecedent answer lying apart from the actual question of
the moment. Sokrates, on the contrary, addresses interrogations,
each of which has a clear and substantive meaning, and most of
which Kleinias is able to answer without embarrassment : he
professes no other design except that of encouraging Kleinias to

ht just as well produce what is said the character of Sokrates.
παρ comic poets Eupolis and Aris- 1 Plat. Euthydém. pp. 279-288. ;
tophanes—the proceedingsas recounted 2Plat. Euthyd. pp. 275 E—276 K.
by the Sokratic disciple in the ¢pov- Πάντα τοιαῦτα nets ἐρωτῶμεν ἄφνκτα,
τιστήριον (Nubes)—as evidence about pp. 287 B—295 B—206 A, ἄς.

198 EUTHYDEMUS. Cuap. XXI.

virtue, and assisting him to determine in what virtue consists :
he resorts to no known quibbles or words of equivocal import.
The effect of the interrogations is represented as being, not to
confound and silence the youth, but to quicken and stimulate his
mind and to call forth an unexpected amount of latent know-
ledge : insomuch that he makes one or two answers very much
beyond his years, exciting the greatest astonishment and admira-
tion, in Sokrates as well as in Kriton.' In this respect, the
youth Kleinias serves the same illustrative purpose as the youth-
ful slave in the Menon :? each is supposed to be quickened by
the interrogatory of Sokrates, into a manifestation of knowledge
noway expected, nor traceable to any teaching. But in the
Menon, this magical evocation of knowledge from an’ untaught
youth is explained by the theory of reminiscence, pre-existence,
and omniscience, of the soul: while in the Euthydémus, no
allusion is made to any such theory, nor to any other cause
except the stimulus of the Sokratic cross-questioning.

In the dialogue Euthydémus, then, one main purpose of Plato
Wherein _is to exhibit in contrast two distinct modes οὗ ques-
this con’ tioning: one practised by Euthydemus and Diony-
not consist. sodorus; the other, by Sokrates. Of these two, it is
the first which is shown up in the most copious and elaborate
manner: the second is made subordinate, serving mainly as a
standard of comparison with the first. We must take care
however to understand in what the contrast between the two
consists, and in what it does not consist.

The contrast does not consist in this—that Sokrates so con-
trives his string of questions as to bring out some established
and positive conclusion, while Euthydemus and his brother leave
everything in perplexity. Such is not the fact. Sokrates ends
without any result, and with a confession of his inability to find
any. Professing- earnest anxiety to stimulate Kleinias in the
path of virtue, he is at the same time unable to define what the

1 Plat. Euthydém. pp. 290-291. The xxxiv. The words τῶν κρειττόνων must
unexpected wisdom, exhibited by the have the usual signification, as recog:
youth Kleinias in his concluding nised by Routh and Heindorf, thoug
answer, can be understood only as Schleiermacher treats it as absurd, ; p.
illustrating the obstetric efficacy of 652, notes.

Sokratic interrogations. See Winckel- 2 Plato, Menon, pp. 82-85.

Cyar. XXL WHEREIN THE CONTRAST CONSISTS. 199

capital condition of virtue is! On this point, then, there is no
contrast between Sokrates and his competitors: if they land their
pupil in embarrassment, so does he. Nor, again, does Sokrates
stand distinguished from them by affirming (or rather implying
in his questions) nothing but what is true and indisputable.?

The real contrast between the competitors, consists, first in the
pretensions—next in the method. The two Sophists wherein it
are described as persons of exorbitant arrogance, pro- 4oesconsist.
fessing to teach virtue,? and claiming a fee as if they did teach
it: Sokrates disdains the fee, doubts whether such teaching is
possible, and professes only to encourage or help forward on the
road a willing pupil. The pupil in this case is a given subject,
Kleinias, a modest and intelligent youth: and: the whole scene
passes in public before an indiscriminate audience. To such a
pupil, what is needed is, encouragement and guidance. Both of
these are really administered by the questions of Sokrates, which
are all suggestive and pertinent to the matter in hand, though
failing to reach a satisfactory result : moreover, Sokrates attends
only to Kleinias, and is indifferent to the effect on the audience
around. The two Sophists, on the contrary, do not say a word
pertinent to the object desired. Far from seeking (as they pro-
mised) to encourage Kleinias,* they confuse and humiliate him
from the beginning: all their implements for teaching consist
only of logical puzzles ; lastly, their main purpose is to elicit
applause from the by-standers, by reducing both the modest
Kleinias and every other respondent to contradiction and stand-
still.

Such is the real contrast between Sokrates and the two
Sophists, and such is the real scene which we read in Abuse of
the dialogue. The presence, as well as the loud 4, Sophists
manifestations of an indiscriminate crowd in the —their bid-

. . ding for th
Lykeium, are essential features of the drama® The app use of

1 Plat. Euthydém. pp. 201 A208 A 4Plat. Euthyd. p. 278 C. ἐφάτην
Plat. Kleitophon, pp. 409-4 γὰρ ἐπιδείξασθαι τὴν προτρεπτικὴν

2See Plat. Euthydem. p. 281 C-D, 5 .
where undoubtedly the positions laid my ΒΑ Racer Ἢ in the
down by Sokrates would not have passed first sentence of The dialogue, and is
without contradiction by an opponent. Ere sal of ually adverted to throughout all
son he” Euthydém. pp. 278 D, 275 A, e preci krates to Kriton, pp.

200 EUTHYDEMUS. Cuar. XXI.

the by- point of view which Plato is working out, is, the
abusive employment, the excess, and the misplace-
ment, of logical puzzles : which he brings before us as adminis-
tered for the humiliation of a youth who requires opposite
treatment,—in the prosecution of an object which they do not
really promote—and before undiscerning auditors, for whose
applause the two Sophists are bidding." The whole debate upon
these fallacies is rendered ridiculous ; and when conducted with
Ktesippus, degenerates into wrangling and ribaldry.

The bearing of the Euthydémus, as I here state it, will be
Comparison better understood if we contrast it with the Parme-
of Mie Ea- nidés. In this last-mentioned dialogue, the amount
with the of negative dialectic and contradiction is greater and
Parmenidés. more serious than that which we read in the Euthy-
démus. One single case of it is elaborately built up in the long
Antinomies at the close of the Parmenidés (which occupy as
much space, and contain nearly as much sophistry, as the
speeches assigned to the two Sophists in Euthydémus), while we
are given to understand that many more remain behind.? These
perplexing Antinomies (addressed by the veteran Parmenides to
Sokrates as his junior), after a variety of other objections against
the Platonic theory of Ideas, which theory Sokrates has been
introduced as affirming,—are drawn up for the avowed purpose
of checking premature affirmation, and of illustrating the difficult
exercises and problems which must be solved, before affirmation
can become justifiable. This task, though long and laborious,
cannot be evaded (we are here told) by aspirants in philosophy.
But it is a task which ought only to be undertaken in conjunc-
tion with a few select companions. “Before any large audience,
it would be unseemly and inadmissible: for the public are not
aware that without such roundabout and devious journey in all
directions, no man can hit upon truth or acquire intelligence.”

1 Plat. Euthydém p. 308 B.

2 Plato, Parmenid. p. 136 B. I shall
revert to this point when I notice the
Parmenidés.

3 Plat. Parmen. pp. 135-136. ἕλκυ-
σον δὲ σαντὸν καὶ ,γύμνασαι μᾶλλον διὰ
τῆς δοκούσης ἀχρήστον εἶναι καὶ καλου-
τίένης ὑπὸ τῶν πολλῶν ἀδολεσχίας, ἕως

ἔτι νέος εἷ--εἰ μὲν οὖν πλείονς

οὐκ ἂν ἄξιον ἦν δεῖσθαι, (to aes σιν
Parmenides to give 8, specimen of
dialectic) ἀπρεπῆ γὰρ τὰ τοιαῦτα πολ-
λῶν ἐναντίον yoscban’ ἄλλως τε καὶ
τηλικούτῳ᾽ γὰρ οἱ πολλοὶ
ὅτι ἄνεν ταύτης τῇ He τ διὰ we πάντων διεξόδον

τε καὶ πλάνης, ἀδύνατον ἐντνχόντα τῷ
ἀληθεῖ νοῦν σχεῖν.

CaP. XXi. COMPARISON WITH THE PARMENIDES.

201

This important proposition—That before a man can be entitled

to lay down with confidence any affirmative theory,
in the domain of philosophy or “reasoned truth,” he
must have had before him the various knots tied by
negative dialectic, and must find out the way of un-

Necessity of
settling ac-
counts with
e nega-
tive, before
we venture

tying them—is a postulate which lies at the bottom of
Plato’s Dialogues of Search, as I have remarked in the
eighth chapterof thiswork. Butthereismuch difference
in the time, manner, and circumstances, under which
such knots are brought before the student for solution. serj
In the Parmenidés, the process is presented as one both
serious and indispensable, yet requiring some precau-
tions: the public must be excluded, for they do not
understand the purpose: and the student under examination
must be one who is competent or more than competent to bear
the heavy burthen put upon him, as Sokrates is represented to
be in the Parmenidés.! In the Euthydémus, on the contrary,
the process is intended to be made ridiculous ; accordingly these
precautions are disregarded. The crowd of indiscriminate audi-
tors are not only present, but are the persons whose feelings the
two Sophists address—and who either admire what is said as
dexterous legerdemain, or laugh at the interchange of thrusts, as
the duel becomes warmer : in fact, the debate ends with general
mirth, in which the couple themselves are among the loudest.
Lastly, Kleinias, the youth under interrogation, is a modest
novice; not represented, like Lysis in the dialogue just reviewed,
as in danger of corruption from the exorbitant flatteries of an
Erastes, nor as requiring a lowering medicine to be administered
by a judicious friend. When the Xenophontic (historical) So-
krates cross-examines and humiliates Euthydémus (a youth, but
nevertheless more advanced than Kleinias in the Platonic Euthy-
démus is represented to be), we shall see that he not only lays a
train for the process by antecedent suggestions, but takes especial
care to attack Euthydémus when alone.* The cross-examination

1 See the compliments to Sokrates, τῶν παρόντων ὑπε vere τὸν λόγον,
on his strenuous ardour and vocation καὶ τὼ ἄνδρε (Euthydemus and Diony-
for philosophy, addressed by Parmeni- sod

OTUs) γελῶντε καὶ κροτοῦντε Kai xai-
. 135 Ὁ.
Ὑ ῥιαί. Ἐπειγά. p. 808 Β. Ἐνταῦθα

ροντε ὀλίγον παρετάθησαν.
3 Xenophon. Memor. iv. 2, 5-8 ὡς
μέντοι, ὦ φίλε Κρίτων, οὐδεὶς ὅστις ov δ᾽ ἥἤσθετο (Sokrates) αὐτὸν ἑτοιμότερον

202 EUTHYDEMUS. Cauap. XX

pursued by Sokrates inflicts upon this accomplished young man
the severest distress and humiliation, and would have been utterly
intolerable, if there had been by-standers clapping their hands (as
we read in the Platonic Euthydémus) whenever the respondent
was driven into a corner. We see that it was hardly tolerable
even when the respondent was alone with Sokrates ; for though
Euthydémus bore up against the temporary suffering, cultivated
the society of Sokrates, and was handled by him more gently
afterwards ; yet there were many other youths whom Sokrates
cross-examined in the same way, and who suffered so much humi-
liation from the first solitary colloquy, that they never again
came near him (so Xenophon expressly tells us)' for a second.
This is quite enough to show us how important is the injunction
delivered in the Platonic Parmenidés—to carry on these testing
colloquies apart from indiscriminate auditors, in the presence, at
most, of a few select companions.
Stallbaum, Steinhart, and other commentators denounce in
of severe terms the Eristics or controversial Sophists of
baum Athens, as disciples of Protagoras and Gorgias, in-
criticeabout fected with the mania of questioning and disputing
démus, that every thing, and thereby corrupting the minds of
Eathy- youth. They tell us that Sokrates was the constant
Dionyso- § enemy of this school, but that nevertheless he was un-
dorns theway justly confounded with them by the comic poets, and
which _— others ; from which confusion alone his unpopularity
and Gorgias with the Athenian people arose? In the Platonic
talked to dialogue of Euthydémus the two Sophists (according
tors. to these commentators) represent the way in which
Protagoras and Gorgias with their disciples reasoned : and the
purpose of the dialogue is to contrast this with the way in which
Sokrates reasoned.
Now, in this opinion, I think that there is much of unfounded
That opi —_ assumption, as well as a misconception of the real con-

founded. _ trast intended in the Platonic Euthydémus. Compar-

ὑπομένοντα, ὅτε διαλέγοιτο, καὶ προθν- the remarks of Sokrates in Plato,
μότερον ἀκούοντα, μόνος ἦλθεν εἰς Theetétas, p. 151 Ὁ

τὸ ἡνιοποιεῖον " παρακαθεζομένου δ᾽ αὖτ 2 Stallbaum,
τοῦ Ἐὐθυδήμον. Εἰπέ por, ἔφη, ἄς. ¥ Euthydém. pp. 9-11- 1135 Winekelmano,
1 Xen. Mem. iv. 2, 30-40. Compare Proleg.ad eundem, pp. xxxiii.-xxxiv.

Cuap. XXL. SOKRATES AN ERISTIC. 203

ing Protagoras with Sokrates, I maintain that Sokrates Sokrates
was decidedly the more Eristic of the two, and left more Eristic
behind him a greater number of active disciples. In gor, who
so far as -we can trust the picture given by Plato in generally |
the dialogue called Protagoras, we learn that the himself by
Sophist of that name chiefly manifested himself in speech or
long continuous speeches or rhetoric ; and though he lecture.
also professed, if required, to enter into dialectic colloquy, in this
art he was no match for Sokrates.1 Moreover, we know by the
evidence of Sokrates himself, that he was an Eristic not only by
taste, but on principle, and by a sense of duty. He tells us, in
the Platonic Apology, that he felt himself under a divine mission
to go about convicting men of ignorance, and that he had prose-
cuted this vocation throughout many years of a long life. Every
one of these convictions must have been brought about by one or
more disputes of his own seeking: every such dispute, with occa-
sional exceptions, made him unpopular, in the outset at least,
with the person convicted : the rather, as his ability in the pro-
cess is known, upon the testimony of Xenophon? as well as of
Plato, to have been consummate. It is therefore a mistake to
decry Protagoras and the Protagoreans (if there were any) as the
special Eristics, and to represent Sokrates as a tutelary genius,
the opponent of such habits. If the commentators are right
(which I do not think they are) in declaring the Athenian mind
to have been perverted by Eristic, Sokrates is much more charge-
able with the mischief than Protagoras. And the comic poets,
when they treated Sokrates as a specimen and teacher of Eristic,
proceeded very naturally upon what they actually saw or heard
of him.®

The fact is, that the Platonic Sokrates when he talks with the
two Sophists in the dialogue Euthydémus, is a charac- ooh ates in
ter drawn by Plato for the purpose of that dialogue, the Euthy-

and is very different from the real historical Sokrates, drawn suit-

1See Plat. Protag., especially y pp. Euthydém. pp ὦ 50-51. ‘Sed hoc ut-
829 and 336. About the eristic dis- ue se habet, illud quidem ex
position of Sokrates, see the striking ‘Aris phane pariter atque ex ipso

passage in Plato , Thesetét. 169 B-C; Platone evidenter apparet, Socratem
also Lachés, 187, 188. non tantum ab orationum scriptoribus,
2 Xen. Mem. i. 2. sed etiam ab aliis, in vanissimorum

3Stallbaum, Proleg. in Platon. sophistarum loco habitam fuisse.”

204 EUTHYDEMUS. παρ. XXL

ably to the whom the public of Athens saw and heard in the
that dia- market-place or gymnasia. He is depicted as a gentle,
logue. soothing, encouraging talker, with his claws drawn
in, and affecting inability even to hold his own against the two
Sophists : such indeed as he sometimes may have been in con-
versing with particular persons (so Xenophon! takes pains to re-
mind his readers in the Memorabilia), but with entire elimination
of that characteristic aggressive Elenchus for which he himeelf
(in the Platonic Apology) takes credit, and which the auditors
usually heard him exhibit.

This picture, accurate or not, suited the dramatic scheme of the
Thetwo § Kuthydémus. Such, in my judgment, is the value
Sophistsin and meaning of the Euthydémus, as far as regards
démusare personal contrasts. One style of reasoning is repre-
takenasreal Scnted by Sokrates, the other by the two Sophists :
persons, or both are the creatures of Plato, having the same dra-
tives of | te matic reality as Sokrates and Strepsiades, or the
persons. Δίκαιος Λόγος and “Ad&ixos Λόγος, of Aristophanes, but
no more. That they correspond to any actual persons at Athens,
is neither proved nor probable. The comic poets introduce So-
krates as talking what was either nonsensical, or offensive to the
feelings of the Athenians: and Sokrates (in the Platonic Apology)
complains that the Dikasts judged him, not according to what he
had really said or done, but according to the impression made on
them by this dramatic picture. The Athenian Sophists would
have equal right to complain of those critics, who not only speak
of Euthydémus and Dionysodorus with a degree of acrimony
applicable only to historical persons, but also describe them
as representative types of Protagoras, Gorgias, and their dis-
ciples?

The conversation of Sokrates with the youth Kleinias is

1 Xen. Mem. f£. 4,1; iv. 2, 40. by attacking Plato first (Bink

2 The of Schleiermacher 22M, Euthyd. p. 404 seq.) Schleier-

more moderate than that of Stall- macher cannot make out who the two
ae 5 and others. He thinks Sophists were personally, but he con-
moreover, that the polemical purpose of ing no roti oticn. obscure persons, deserv-
Protagores ¢ oF Gorgias, i put age eet the is a conjecture which admits

4 : : of no proof; but if any real victim is
Megarics and against Antisthenes, ye here intended by Plato, we may just

(80
brought the attack upon themselves Protagoraa, > suppose Antisthenes as

Crap. XXL COLLOQUY WITH KLEINIAS. 205

remarkable for its plainness and simplicity. His cottogny of
purpose is to implant or inflame in the youth the Sok
aspiration and effort towards wisdom or knowledge nias po
(φιλοσοφία, in its etymological sense). ‘You, like good things
every one else, wish to do well or to be happy. is useless,
The way to be happy is, to have many good things. also have
Every one knows this: every one knows too, that intelligence
among these good things, wealth is an indisputable ‘hem.
item :! likewise health, beauty, bodily activity, good birth, power
over others, honour in our city, temperance, justice, courage,
wisdom, &c. Good fortune does not count as a distinct item, be-
cause it resolves itself into wisdom.*—But it is not enough to
have all these good things : we must not only have them but use
them : moreover, we must use them not wrongly, but rightly.
If we use them wrongly, they will not produce their appropriate
consequences. They will even make us more miserable than if
we had them not, because the possession of them will prompt us
to be active and meddlesome : whereas, if we have them not, we
shall keep in the back-ground and do little* But to use these
good things rightly, depends upon wisdom, knowledge, intelli-
gence. It thus appears that the enumerated items are not really
good, except on the assumption that they are under the guidance
of intelligence: if they are under the guidance of ignorance, they
are not good ; nay, they even produce more harm than good,
since they are active instruments in the service of a foolish
master.*

“But what intelligence do we want for the purpose? Is it
all intelligence? Or is there any one single variety But intelli-
of intelligence, by the possession of which we shall ὅϑῃοθ- οἱ
become good and happy?® Obviously, it must be must be

such as will be profitable to us.© We have seen that gence, or

1 Plato, Euthydém. p. 279 A. ἀγαθὰ see that the argument of Sokrates is
δὲ ποῖα dpa τῶν ὄντων τυγχάνει ἡμῖν open to the exception which he him-
ὄντα; ἢ οὐ χαλεπὸν οὐδὲ σεμνοῦ ἀνδρὸς self takes in the case of εὐτυχία--δὶς
πάνν τι οὐδὲ τοῦτο ἔοικεν εἶναι εὑρεῖν; ταὐτὰ Adyew. Wisdom is counted
πᾶς γὰρ ἂν ἡμῖν εἴποι ὅτι τὸ πλουτεῖν twice over.
ἀγαθόν; ὅ Plato, Euthydém. p. 282 E. So-

2 Plato, Euthydém. pp. 279-280. krates here breaks off the string of
3 Plato, Euthydém. p. 281 C. ἧττον questions to Kleinias, but resumes
δὲ κακῶς πράττων, ἄθλιος ἧττον ἂν εἴη. em, p. 288 D.

4Plato, Euthyd. p. 282 E. If we 6 Plato, Eathydém. p. 288 Ὁ. τίνα
compare this with p. 279 C-D we shall ποτ᾿ οὖν ἂν κτησάμενοι ἐπιστήμην ὀρθῶς

206 EUTHYDEMUS. CHar. XXL

such anart, there is no good in possessing wealth—that we should
as will in-

clude both gain nothing by knowing how to acquire wealth or
the making even to turn stones into gold, unless we at the same
want,and time knew how to use it rightly. Nor should we
use right gain any thing by knowing how to make ourselves
when made. healthy, or even immortal, unless we knew how to
employ rightly our health or immortality. We want knowledge
or intelligence, of such a nature, as to include both acting, mak-
ing, or construction—and rightly using what we have done,
made, or constructed.! The makers of lyres and flutes may be
men of skill, but they cannot play upon the instruments which
they have made: the logographers compose fine discourses, but
hand them over for others to deliver. Even masters in the most
distinguished arts—such as military commanders, geometers,
arithmeticians, astronomers, &c., do not come up to our require-
ment. They are all of them varieties under the general class
hunters: they find and seize, but hand over what they have seized
for others to use. The hunter, when he has caught or killed
game, hands it over to the cook ; the general, when he has taken
a town, delivers it to the political leader or minister: the geo-
meter makes over his theorems to be employed by the dialectician
or comprehensive philosopher.?

‘Where then can we find such an art—such a variety of
Whereis Knowledge or intelligence—as we are seeking? The
such anart regal or political art looks like it: that art which
The regal qt regulates and enforces all the arrangements of the

political art city. But what is the work which this art performs?
it; but what What product does it yield, as the medical art sup-
doesthisaré Ties good health, and the farmer’s art, provision ἢ
No answer What good does it effect? You may say that it
found. Ends makes the citizens wealthy, free, harmonious in their
inpuzzle. intercourse. But we have already seen that these
acquisitions are not good, unless they be under the guidance of
intelligence : that nothing is really good, except some variety of
intelligence.® Does the regal art then confer knowledge? If

«τησαίμεθα; dp’ ov τοῦτο μὲν ἁπλοῦν, ὅτι πέπτωκεν ἦα τό ze roe καὶ τὸ ἐπίσ-

is ἡμᾶς ὀνήσει; τασθ
vr Bialo, woth thyd. p. 289 B. τοιαύτης 2 Plato, Ruthyd. p. 7.290 ‘CD.
σινὸς ἄρ᾽ ἡμῖν ἐπιστήμης δεῖ, ἐν ἣ συμ’ 3 Plato, _Euthyd. p. 202 B. ᾿Αγαϑὸν

CaP. XXI. PROBLEM ABOUT GOOD—UNSOLVED. 207

20, does it confer every variety of knowledge—that of the car-
penter, currier, &., as well as others? Not certainly any of
these, for we have already settled that they are in themselves
neither good nor bad. The regal art can thus impart no know-
ledge except itself ; and what is ttself? how are we to use it? If
we say, that we shall render other men good—the question again
recurs, Good—in what respect? wseful—for what purpose 11

“Here then” (concludes Sokrates), “‘we come to a dead lock :
we can find no issue.* We cannot discover what the regal art
does for us or gives us: yet this is the art which is to make us
happy.” In this difficulty, Sokrates turns to the two Sophists,
and implores their help. The contrast between him and them is
thus brought out.

The argument of Sokrates, which I have thus abridged from
the Euthydémus, arrives at no solution: but it is Review of
nevertheless eminently suggestive, and puts the ques- the cross-
tion in a way to receive solution. What is the regal] tion just
or political art which directs or regulates all others ? βαιθυοὰ Ὁ
A man has many different impulses, dispositions, tists,
qualities, aptitudes, advantages, possessions, &c., which —puts the
we describe by saying that he is an artist, a general, wietwe”
a tradesman, clever, just, temperate, brave, strong, !00k for.
rich, powerful, &. But in the course of life, each particular
situation has its different exigencies, while the prospective future
has its exigencies also. The whole man is one, with all these
distinct and sometimes conflicting attributes: in following one
impulse, he must resist others—in turning his aptitudes to one
object, he must turn them away from others—he must, as Plato
says, distinguish the right use of his force from the wrong, by
virtue of knowledge, intelligence, reason. Such discriminating
intelligence, which in this dialogue is called the Regal or political
art,—what is the object of it? It is intelligence or knowledge,—
But of what? Not certainly of the way how each particular act
is to be performed—how each particular end is to be attained.

δέ γέ πον ὡμολογήσαμεν ἀλλήλοις-- ἀγαθῶν, ἐπιστήμην δὲ παραδιδόναι μηδε-

οὐδὲν εἶναι ἄλλο ἣ ἐπιστήμην τινά. μίαν ἄλλην ἢ αὐτὴν ἑαντήν" λέγωμεν
2 Plat. Euthydém. 292 D. ᾿Αλλὰ δὴ οὖν, τίς wore ἔστιν αὑτὴ ἡ τί χρη-

τίνα δὴ ἐπιστήμην; i, τί. χρησόμεθα; σόμεθα;

τῶν μὲν γὰρ ἔργων οὐδε δεῖ αὐτὴν 2

δημιουργὸν elvan ἡ τῶν μήτε κακῶν μήτε Plat. Euthyd. p. 392 E,

208 EUTHYDEMUS. Cuar. XX.

Each of these separately is the object of some special knowledge.
But the whole of a man’s life is passed in a series of such par-
ticular acts, each of which is the object of some special know-
ledge: what then remains as the object of Regal or political
intelligence, upon which our happiness is said to depend? Or
how can it have any object at all?

The question here raised is present to Plato’s mind in other
dialogues, and occurs under other words, as for ex-
with other ample, What is good? Good is the object of the

eblic, egal or political intelligence; but what is Good?

bus, In the Republic he raises this question, but declines
The cely to answer it, confessing that he could not make it
distinct | —_ intelligible to his hearers :} in the Gorgias, he takes
found inthe pains to tell us what it is not: inthe Philébus, he does
Protagoras. indeed tell us what it is, but in terms which need ex-
planation quite as much as the term which they are brought to
explain. There is only one dialogue in which the question is
answered affirmatively, in clear and unmistakable language, and
with considerable development—and that is, the Protagoras :
where Sokrates asserts and proves at length, that Good is at the
bottom identical with pleasure, and Evil with pain: that the
measuring or calculating intelligence is the truly regal art of
life, upon which the attainment of Good depends: and that the
object of that intelligence—the items which we are to measure,
calculate, and compare—is pleasures and pains, so as to secure to
ourselves as much as possible of the former, and escape as much
as possible of the latter.

In my remarks on the Protagoras, I shall state the view which
I take of the doctrine laid down in that dialogue by Sokrates.
Persons may think the answer insufficient : most of the Platonic
critics declare it to be absolutely wrong. But at any rate it is
the only distinct answer which Plato ever gives, to the question
raised by Sokrates in the Euthydémus and elsewhere.

From the abstract just given of the argument of Sokrates in
The talk of the Euthydémus, it will be seen to be serious and
Suphists, Pertinent, though ending with a confession of failure.
though The observations placed in contrast with it and

1 Plato, Republic, vi. pp. 505-506.

Cuap. XXI. IRONICAL ADMIRATION. 209

ascribed to the two Sophists, are distinguished by ironically
being neither serious nor pertinent ; but parodies of while it is
debate for the most part, put together for the express going on, is
purpose of appearing obviously silly to the reader. the end to
Plato keeps up the dramatic or ironical appearance, mira-
that they are admired and welcomed not only by the contrary.
hearers, but even by Sokrates himself. Nevertheleas,

it is made clear at the end that all this is nothing but irony, and
that the talk which Plato ascribes to Euthydémus and Dionyso-
dorus produced, according to his own showing, no sentiment of
esteem for their abilities among the by-standers, but quite the
reverse. Whether there were individual Sophists at Athens who
talked in that style, we can neither affirm nor deny: but that
there were an established class of persons who did so, and made
both money and reputation by it, we can securely deny. It is
the more surprising that the Platonic commentators should desire
us to regard Euthydémus and Dionysodorus as representative
samples of a special class named Sophists, since one of the most
eminent of those commentators (Stallbaum),’ both admits that
Sokrates himself was generally numbered in the class and called
by the name—and affirms also (incorrectly, in my opinion) that
the interrogations of Sokrates, which in this dialogue stand
contrasted with those of the two Sophists, do not enunciate the
opinions either of Sokrates or of Plato himself, but the opinions
of these very Sophists, which Plato adopts and utters for the
occasion.”

1 Stallbaum, Proleg. in Platon. enim omnia ad mentem istarum dis-
Euthydem. p. 50. ‘“Ilud quidem ex putata, quos 1116, reprehensis eorum
Aristophane pariter atque ipso Platone opinionibus, sperat eo adductum iri, ut
evidenter apparet, Socratem non tan- gravem prudentemque earum defen-

tum ab orationum scriptoribus, sed sionem suscipiant.” Compare p. 66.

etiam ab aliis in vanissimorum sophis- Stallbaum says that Plato often rea-

tarum numero habitum fuisse.” Ib.

P. 49 (cited in a previous note). ‘“Vi- doctrine of the Sophists. See his
etur pe ta fuisse hominum Prolegg. to the Lachés and Charmidés,
inio, qué Socratem inter vanos so- and 8 more his Proleg. to the

phistas numerandum esse existima- Protagoras, where he tells us that

t.” Again p. 44, where Stallbaum Plato introduces his spokesman So-
tells us that Sokrates was considered krates not only as arguing ex mente
by many to belong ‘“‘misellorum So- Soghistarum, but also as employing

Pp gregi”. captious and delusive artifice, such as

3 Stallbaum, Proleg. ad Plat. Euthy- in this dialogue is ascribed to Euthy-

dem. p. 80. ‘‘Cavendum est ο- demus and Dionysodorus.—pp. 238-24.

pere, ne qu hic ἃ Socrate disputantur, “ Itaque Socrates, miss& hujus rei dis-

pro ipsius decretis habeamus: sunt putatione, repenté ad alia progreditur,

“--Ἰά

210 EUTHYDEMOUS. Caap. XXI.

The received supposition that there were at Athens a class
of men called Sophists who made money and repu-

manger tation by obvious fallacies employed to bring about
tions about’ contradictions in dialogue—appears to me to per-
τ Aristotle's vert the representations given of ancient philosophy.
no distin. Aristotle defines a Sophist to be “one who seeks to

nishable make money by apparent wisdom which is not real
drawn wisdom ”:—the Sophist (he says) is an Eristic who,
Sopbiat and besides money-making, seeks for nothing but victory
the Dialec- in debate and humiliation of his opponent :—Distin-

guishing the Dialectician from the Sophist (he says),
the Dialectician impugns or defends, by probable arguments,
probable tenets—that is, tenets which are believed by a nume-
rous public or by a few wise and eminent individuals :—while
the Sophist deals with tenets which are probable only in appear-
ance and not in reality—that is to say, tenets which almost every
one by the slightest attention recognises as false! This defini-
tion is founded, partly on the personal character and purpose
ascribed to the Sophist: partly upon the distinction between
apparent and real wisdom, assumed to be known and permanent.
Now such pseudo-wisdom was declared by Sokrates to be the
natural state of all mankind, even the most eminent, which it
was his mission to expose: moreover, the determination, what is
to be comprised in this description, must depend upon the

acilicet similibus laqueis hominem
denuo irretiturus. Nemini facilé ob-
scurum erit, hoc quoque loco Prota-

στικὸς δὲ ἔστι ov ισμὸς ὁ ἐκ
φαινομένων ἐνδόξων, μὴ ὄντων δὲ--καὶ
o ἐξ ἐνδόξων ἢ ey per apt

usiunculis deludi” φαινόμε τῶν ᾿λεγομένων

ie, 2 by. Sokrates) ““atque callidé eo ἑνδόξων "Wt wee anid γὰρ παντελῶς τὴν
ἂς. uanquam nemo φαντασίαν, καθάπερ περὶ τὰς τῶν

erit, qin videat, udi Prota- κῶν λόγων ἀρχὰς συμβέβηκεν ἔχειν."

goram, ubi ex eo, quod qui injusté

iat, is neutiquam t σι , καὶ ἐν δνραμέτοις κατάδηλος
protinus colligitar justitiam raked ab ἐν αὐτοῖς ἢ τοῦ ψεύδους é στι φύσις.
σύνην unum idemque ease." Ὁ, 25. icis Elenchis, iL p. 166,
“‘Disputat enim pleraque ἃ. 21. ἔστι ἣ σοφιστικὴ φαινομένη
omnia ad mentem ipsius Protas σοφία, οὖσα δ᾽ οὔ" καὶ ὁ σοφιστὴς χρη-

. 80. ““ Platonem ipsum hese oe non pro- ματιστὴς ἀπὸ φαινομένης σοφίας, add’

sed 6 vulgi opinione et monte
grep sasee, vel vel illud non obscuré signi-
D arietotal, "Te Topic. £ 1, p. 100, b. 21 a.
ἔνδοξα δὲ τὰ δοκοῦντα πᾶσιν ἢ

πλείστοις ἣ τοῖς σοφοῖς, καὶ τούτοις
ἣ πᾶσιν ἣ τοῖς πλείστοις ἣ τοῖς
ὠιάλιστα γνωρίμοις καὶ ἐνδόξοις. "“Epe- ili.

οὐκ obens, p. 165, b. 10, p. 171, b. 8-27.

Οἱ φιλέριδες, ἐ are
ad ns wha ho freak οἱ pelt had δε

ectic (simone ca). for the purpose of
x “oven are those

who de the same thing for t the
of hire iets money. Metaphys.

Caap. XXI. NO REAL CLASS OF SOPHISTS. 211

judges to whom it is submitted, since much of the works of
Aristotle and Plato would come under the category, in the judg-
ment of modern readers both vulgar and instructed. But apart
from this relative and variable character of the definition, when
applied to philosophy generally—we may confidently assert, that
there never was any real class of intellectual men, in a given
time or place, to whom it could possibly apply. Of individuals,
the varieties are innumerable: but no professional body of men
ever acquired gain or celebrity by maintaining theses, and em-
ploying arguments, which every one could easily detect as false.
Every man employs sophisms more or less ; every man does 80
inadvertently, some do it by design also; moreover, almost every
reasoner does it largely, in the estimation of his opponents.
No distinct line can be drawn between the Sophist and the
Dialectician : the definition given by Aristotle applies to an
ideal in his own mind, but to no reality without: Protagoras
and Prodikus no more correspond to it than Sokrates and Plato.
Aristotle observes, with great truth, that all men are dialecticians
and testers of reasoning, up to a certain point: he might have
added that they are all Sophists also, up to a certain point.}
Moreover, when he attempts to found a scientific classification
of intellectual processes upon a difference in the purposes of
different practitioners—whether they employ the same process
for money or display, or beneficence, or mental satisfaction to
themselves—this is altogether unphilosophical. The medical art
is the same, whether employed to advise gratis, or in exchange
for a fee.?

Though I maintain that no class of professional Sophists (in
the meaning given to that term by the Platonic Philosophi-
critics after Plato and Aristotle) ever existed—and ©! purpose
though the distinction between the paid and the gra- thydémus—
tuitous discourser is altogether unworthy to enter {pom of
into the history of philosophy—yet I am not the less Plato's dra-
persuaded that the Platonic dialogue Euthydémus, ner, by mul-
and the treatise of Aristotle De Sophisticis Elenchis, Hpiceion
are very striking and useful compositions. This last- examples.

1 .

Aristot. Sophist. Elench. p. 173,8. He here admits that the only differ

. the Dialectician and the
3 Aristot. Rhetor. i. 1, 1855, Ὁ. 18. Sophist Hes in their purposes—that the

212 EUTHYDEMUS. Cuap. XXI.

mentioned treatise was composed by Aristotle very much under
the stimulus of the Platonie dialogue Euthydémus, to which it
refers several times—and for the purpose of distributing the
variety of possible fallacies under a limited number of general
heads, each described by its appropriate characteristic, and repre-
sented by its illustrative type. Such attempt at arrangement—
one of the many valuable contributions of Aristotle to the theory
of reasoning—is expressly claimed by him as hisown. He takes
ἃ just pride in having been the first to introduce system where
none had introduced it before. Nosuch system was known to
Plato, who (in the Euthydémus) enumerates a string of fallacies
one after another without any project of classifying them, and
who presents them as it were in concrete, as applied by certain
disputants in an imaginary dialogue. The purpose is, to make
these fallacies appear conspicuously in their character of fallacies:
ἃ purpose which is assisted by presenting the propounders of
them as ridiculous and contemptible. The lively fancy of Plato
attaches suitable accessories to Euthydémus and Dionyeodorus.
They are old men, who have been all their lives engaged in
teaching rhetoric and tactics, but have recently taken to dialectic,
and acquired perfect mastery thereof without any trouble—who
make extravagant promises—and who as talkers play into each
other’s hands, making a shuttlecock of the respondent, a modest
novice every way unsuitable for such treatment.

Thus different is the Platonic manner, from the Aristotelian
Aristotle manner, of exposing fallacies, But those exhibited in
Soph. the former appear as members of one or more among
attempisa, ne classes framed by the latter. The fallacies which
classifica we read in the Euthydémus are chiefly verbal : but
ies: | some are verbal, and something beyond.
mora “Thus, for example, if we take the first. sophism in-
them with- troduced by the two exhibitors, upon which they
fication. bring the youth Kleinias, by suitable questions, to
Fallacies of GCClare successively both sides of the alternative—
equivocae ‘ Which of the two is it that learns, the wise or the
mental activity employed by both is σοφιστὴς μὲν κατὰ τὴν προαίρεσιν, 'δια-

e same. ὁ γὰρ σοφιστικὸς οὐκ ἐν τῇ λεκτικὸς δὲ οὗ κατὰ τὴν προαίρεσιν, ἀλλὰ
δυνάμει ἀλλ᾽ ν he προαιρέσει’ πλὴν κατὰ τὴν δύναμιν.

ἐνταῦθα μὲν dn toric ore. ὁ
κατὰ τὴν ἐπιστήμην ὁ yi nara μὰν De Sol the ais Elentide. οἱ the treatise

προαίρεσιν, ῥήτωρ, ἐκεῖ δὲ (in Dialectic)

CuHap. XXL ' FALLACIES OF EQUIVOCATION. 213

ignorant ?”—Sokrates himself elucidates it by point- tion | Pros
ing out that the terms used are equivocal :! You By the the two
might answer it by using the language ascribed to 4,7 Soe τα
Dionysodorus in another part of this dialogue — démus.
“Neither and Both”. The like may be said about the fallacy
in page 284 D—“ Are there persons who.speak of things as they
are? Good men speak of things as they are: they speak of good
men well, of bad men badly : therefore, of course, they speak of
stout men stoutly, and of hot men hotly. Ay! rejoins the re-
spondent Ktesippus, angrily—they speak of cold men coldly, and
say that they talk coldly.”* These are fallacies of double mean-
ing of words—or double construction of phrases : as we read also
in page 287 D, where the same Greek verb (νοεῖν) may be con-
strued either to think or to mean: so that when Sokrates talks
about what a predication means—the Sophists ask him—“ Does
anything think, except things having a soul? Did you ever know
any predication that had a soul 1"

Again, the two Sophists undertake to prove that Sokrates,
as well as the youth Kleinias and indeed every one fFatiacies—c
else, knows everything. “Can any existing thing dio mam.
be that which it is, and at the same time not be that dictum sim-
which it is?—No.—You know some things ?—Yes— ?o<‘tntny.
Then if you know, you are knowing ?—Certainly. 1 démus.
am knowing of those particular things —That makes no differ-
ence: if you are knowing, you necessarily know everything.—Oh!
no: for there are many things which I do not know.—Then if
there be anything which you do not know, you are not knowing ?
—Yes, doubtless—of that particular thing.—Still you are not
knowing: and just now you said that you were knowing: and thus,
at one and the same time, you are what you are, and you are not
what you are.*

“But you also” (retorts Sokrates upon the couple), “do not

1 Aristotle ‘aloo saverta pp. 275 D- D—278D. φασὶ διαλέγεσθαι. The metaphorical

Ἀν δυτέ this fallacy, sense of ψυχρὸς ἴῃ ce erate, τοὶ

but without naming the y us. stu

See Soph. EL. 4, ca Ὁ. 80. nt Plato fo, ety, Ὃς 28 . 298 Can.
3 Plato, Ebydem. Ὁ. 800D. Οὐδέ- word ; he admits that in certain senses

Tepe καὶ you may both know and not know the
3 Plato, Ruthydém. p. 284 E. τοὺς same thing. Anal. Prior. ii. 67, Ὁ. 8.

your ψυχροὺς ψνχρῶς λέγουσί τε καὶ Anal. Post. i. 71, a. 26.

. vocations.

214 EUTHYDEMUS. CHar. XXL

you also know some things, not know others ?—By no means.—
What! do you know nothing ?—Far from it.—Then you know
all things }—Certainly we do,—and you too: if you know one
thing, you know all things—What ! do you know the art of the
carpenter, the currier, the cobbler—the number of stars in the
heaven, and of grains of sand in the desert, ἄς. Yes : we know
all these things.”

The two Sophists maintain their consistency by making reply
Obstinacy 18 the affirmative to each of these successive questions:
shown by though Ktesippus pushes them hard by enquiries as
Sophista | to astring of mean and diverse specialties." This is
replice-de. one of the purposes of the dialogue : to represent the
termination two Sophists as willing to answer any thing, however
contradict Obviously wrong and false, for the purpose of avoiding
themselves. defeat in the dispute—as using their best efforts to
preserve themselves in the position of questioners, and to evade -
the position of respondents—and as exacting a categorical answer
—Yes or No—to every question which they put without any
qualifying words, and without any assurance that the meaning of
the question was understood.?

The base of these fallacious inferences is, That respecting the
same subject, you cannot both affirm and deny the same predi-
cate: you cannot say, A is knowing—A is not knowing (ἐπιστή-
pov). This is a fallacy more than verbal: it is recognised by
Aristotle (and by all subsequent logicians) under the name—@é
dacto secundum quid, ad dictum simplictter.

It is very certain that this fallacy is often inadvertently com-
mitted by very competent reasoners, including both Plato and
Aristotle. .

' Again—Sophroniskus was my father—Cheredemus was the
Farther father of Patrokles—Then Sophroniskus was diffe-
verbal equi- rent from a father: therefore he was not a father.
You are different from a stone, therefore you are not
a stone: you are different from gold, therefore you are not gold.
By parity of reasoning, Sophroniskus is different from a father—
therefore he is not a father. Accordingly, you, Sokrates, have no
father.®

1 Plato, Euthydém. pp. 293-204. 2 Plato, Euthydém. pp. 295-296.
» Bothy Pr Plato, Euthydém. pp. 297-298. Pp.

Cuap. XXL FALLACIES BEXTRA DICTIONEM. 215

But (retorts Ktesippus upon the couple) your father is different
from my father.—Not at all.—How can that be ?—What! is
your father, then, the father of all men and of all animals ?—
Certainly he is. A man cannot be at the same time a father, and
not a father. He cannot be at the same time a man, and nota

man—gold, and not gold.

You have got a dog (Euthydémus says to Ktesippus).—Yes.—
The dog is the father of puppies!—Yes.—The dog, being a father,
is yours }—Certainly—Then your father is a dog, and you are
brother of the puppies.

You beat your dog sometimes? Then you beat your father.2

Those animals, and those alone are yours (sheep, oxen, &c.),
which you can give away, or sell, or sacrifice at pleasure. But
Zeus, Apollo, and Athéné are your Gods. The Gods have a soul
and are animals, Therefore your Gods are your animals. Now
you told us that those alone were your animals, which you could
give away, or sell, or sacrifice at pleasure. Therefore you can
give away, or sell, or sacrifice at pleasure, Zeus, Apollo, and
Athéné.®

This fallacy depends upon the double and equivocal meaning
of yours—one of its different explanations being treated as if it
were the only one.

Other puzzles cited in this dialogue go deeper :—Contradiction
is impossible—To speak falsely is impossible.‘ These Fallacies
paradoxes were maintained by Antisthenes and others, involving
and appear to have been matters of dialectic debate deeper
throughout the fourth and third centuries. I shall principles—
say more of them when I speak about the Megarics tion is
and Antisthenes. Here I only note, that in this dia- impossible.
logue, Ktesippus is represented as put to silence by falsely is
them, and Sokrates as making an answer which is no possib:
answer at all.5 We see how much trouble these paradoxes gave

1 Plato, Euthydém. p. 298. Some of κατακόπτειν, Ὁ. 301 D.

the fallacies in the dla ogue (Πότερον 3 Plat. Euthyd. p. 298.

δρῶσιν οι pwr τὰ ννατὰ δρᾷν aT 3

ἀδύνατα; . . . Ἢ οὐχ οἷόν re σιγῶντα gam same fallacy: i subotaree, is given te

λέγειν! > Ῥ. on eine hardly transl ta Ὁ Aristotle, De Sophist. ΕἸ. 11, 176 a. 8,
practions poccliae tothe 170. a 5, but with different exempli-

equiv constructions to the fying names and persons.

Greek Aristotle refers them *7" pe

to the general head παρ᾽ ἀμφιβολίαν. Plato, Euthydém. pp. 285-286.

The same about προσήκει τὸν μάγειρον 5 Plato, Euthydém. pp. 286 B—287 A.

216 EUTHYDEMUS. Cuap. XXL

to Plato, when we read the Sophistés, in which he handles the
last of the two in a manner elaborate, but (to my judgment) un-
satisfactory.

The Euthydémus of Plato is memorable in the history of phi-
Plato's Ec- losophy as the ‘earliest known attempt to set out, and
thydemus is exhibit to attention, a string of fallacious modes of
known reasoning. Plato makes them all absurd and ridi-
set outanag culous. He gives a caricature of a dialectic debate,
expose not unworthy of his namesake Plato Comicus—or of
only way of Aristophanes, Swift, or Voltaire. The sophisms ap-
failaciewis pear for the most part so silly, as he puts them, that
toexemplify the reader asks himself how any one could have been
by particu. ever imposed upon by such a palpable delusion? Yet
which the such confidence is by no means justified. A sophism,
conclusion perfectly analogous in character to those which Plato

wnalt- here exposes to ridicule, may, in another case, easily
false ead escape detection from the hearer, and even from the
absard. reasoner himself. People are constantly misled by
fallacies arising from the same word bearing two senses, from
double construction of the same phrase, from unconscious appli-
cation of a dictum secundum quid, as if it were a dictum sumplictter ;
from Petitio Principii, &c., Ignoratio Elenchi, &c. Neither Plato
himself, nor Aristotle, can boast of escaping them.' If these
fallacies appear, in the examples chosen by Plato for the Euthy-
démus, so obviously inconclusive that they can deceive no one—
the reason lies not in the premisses themselves, but in the parti-
cular conclusions to which they lead: which conclusions are
known on other grounds to be false, and never to be seriously
maintainable by any person. Such conclusions as—“Sokrates
had no father : Sophroniskus, if father of Sokrates, was father of
all men and all animals: In beating your dog, you beat your
father: If you know one thing, you know everything,” &c.
being known alvunde to be false, prove that there has been some
fallacy in the premisses whereby they have been established.
Such cases serve as a reductio ad absurdum of the antecedent pro-

1 See a in Plato’s 9. Gorgias, p. 507 Ὦ, with the notes
eet where Het dort Temarks mith of Routh an eindort. T have noticed
n v use of the h passages in ussing these two

“tay and εὖ wparrex—also dialogu

Cuap. XXL FREQUENT DECEPTION FROM FALLACIES. 217.

cess. They make us aware.of one mode of liability to error, and
put us on our guard against it in analogous cases. This is a
valuable service, and all the more valuable, because the liability
to error is real and widespread, even from fallacies perfectly ana-
logous to those which seem so silly under the particular exempli-
fications which Plato selects and exposes. Many of the illustra-
tions of the Platonic Euthydémus are reproduced by Aristotle in
the Treatise de Sophisticis Elenchis, together with other fallacies,
discriminated with a certain method and eystem.!

The true character of these fallacies is very generally over-
looked by the Platonic critics, in their appreciation of
the Euthydémus ; when they point our attention to supposi
the supposed tricks and frauds of the persons whom ae been
they called Sophists, as well as to mischievous corrup- invented
tions alleged to arise from Eristic or formal conten- gated by
tious debate. These critics speak as if they thought Sep iste
that such fallacies were the special inventions of they are'in-
Athenian Sophists for the purposes of Athenian Eris- vertencies
tic: as if such causes of error were inoperative on tiesto error,
persons of ordinary honesty or intelligence, who in the ordi-
never consulted or heard the Sophists. It has been of thinking.
the practice of writers on logic, from Aristotle down Formabde: |
to Whately, to represent logical fallacies as frauds the best
devised and maintained by dishonest practitioners, correcting
whose art Whately assimilates to that of jugglers. them.

This view of the case appears to me incomplete and mislead-
ing. It substitutes the rare and accidental in place of the con-
stant and essential. The various sophisms, of which Plato in the
Euthydémus gives the reductw ad absurdum, are not the inven-
tions of Sophiste. They are erroneous tendencies of the reason-
ing process, frequently incident to human thought and speech :
specimens of those ever-renewed “inadvertencies of ordinary
thinking” (to recur to a phrase cited in my preface), which it is
the peculiar mission of philosophy or “reasoned truth” to rectify.
Moreover the practice of formal debate, which is usually de-
nounced with so much asperity—if it affords on some occasions
opportunity to produce such fallacies, presents not merely equal
opportunity, but the only effective means, for exposing and con-

1 Aristotle, De Sophist. Elench. ; also Arist. Rhet. ii. p. 1401, a-b.

218 EUTHYDEMUS. CHaPp. XXI.

futing them. Whately in his Logic, like Plato in the Euthy-
démus, when bringing these fallacies into open daylight in order
that every one may detect them, may enliven the theme by pre-
senting them as the deliberate tricks of a Sophist. Doubtless
they are so by accident: yet their essential character is that of
infirmities incident to the tntellectus stbi permissus : operative at
Athens before Athenian Sophists existed, and in other regions
also, where these persons never penetrated.

The wide diffusion and constant prevalence of such infirmities
is attested not less by Sokrates in his last speech,

Wide-
spread | Pre- wherein he declares real want of knowledge and false
erroneous persuasion of knowledge, to be universal, the mission

paided be of his life being to expose them, though he could not

one or other correct them—than by Bacon in his reformatory pre-
fa lacies, jects, where he enumerates the various Idola wor-
attested by shipped by the human intellect, and the false tenden-
Sokrates, . ° . . . 7, - 99

. Plato, cies acquired “in primd digestione mentis”. The
Baommplees psychological analysis of the sentiment of belief with
Seenereads 18 different sources, given in Mr. Alexander Bain’s
of fallacies work on the Emotions and the Will, shows how

this takes place; and exhibits true or sound belief,
in so far as it ever is acquired, as an acquisition only attained
after expulsion of earlier antecedent error.? Of such error, and

we are not seeking for a ents to
prove a given question, bu
elicit from our previous stock ΟἹ
knowledge some useful inference.”
“ΤῸ speak of all the Fallacies that
have ever been enumerated, as too

1 Whately’s Logic, ch. v. sect. 5.
Though tely, like other logicians,
keeps the Sophiats in the foreground,
as the fraudulent enemy who sow tares
among that which would otherwise
come up asaclean crop of wheat—yet

he intimatesalso incidental! how wide-
spread and frequent su ies are,
quite apart from dishonest design. He
says It seems by most persons to be
taken for granted, that a Fallacy is to be
dreaded merely as a n fashioned
and wielded by a skilful Sophist: or, if
they allow that a man may with honest
intentions slide into one, unconsciously,
in the heat of argument—still they
seem to suppose, that where there is
no dispute, there is no cause to dread
Fallacy. Whereas there is much danger,
even in what may be called solitary
reasoning, of sili unawares into

, by which one may be so
far deceived as even to act upon the
conclusion so obtained. By solitary
reasoning, is meant the case in which

glaring and obvious to need even being
mentioned—because the simple in-
stances given in books, and there stated
in the est and consequently most
easily detected form, are such as (in
that form) would deceive no one—
surely, shows either extreme weakness
me unfairness.”— Aristotle him-
self makes the same remark as Whately
—That the man who is easily taken in
by a Fallacy advanced by another, will
be easily misled by the like Fallacy in
his own solitary reasoning. Sophist.
Elench. 16, 175, a. 10.

2 See the instructive and original
chapter on the generation, sources, and
growth of Belief, in Mr. Bain’s work,
‘Emotions and Will,’ P. 568 seq.
After laying down the fuudamental

‘CHur. XXL FALLACIES NATURAL AND SELF-OPERATIVE,

219

of the different ways in which apparent evidence is mistaken for
real evidence, a comprehensive philosophical exposition is farther
given by Mr. John Stuart Mill, in the fifth book of his System of
Logic, devoted to the subject of Fallacies. Every variety of
erroneous procedure is referable to some one or more of the
general heads of Fallacy there enumerated. It is the Fallacies
of Ratiocination, of which the two Sophists, in the Platonic
Euthydémus, are made to exhibit specimens: and when we re-
gard such Fallacies, as one branch among several in a complete
logical scheme, we shall see at once that they are not inventions
of the Athenian Sophists—still less inventions for the purpose of
Eristic or formal debate. For every one of these Fallacies is of a
nature to ensnare men, and even to ensnare them more easily, in
the common, informal, conversation of life—or in their separate
thoughts. Besides mistakes on matters of fact, the two main

characteristic of Belief, as referable
altogether to intended action, either

certain to come, or contingent under
su circumstances, and after enu-
mera the different Sources of Be-
lief.—1. Intuitive or Instinctive. 2
ence. 8. The Influence of the
Emotions (sect. x. p. 579)—Mr. Bain
: “Having in our constitution

Ῥ fountains of activity in the
spontaneous and voluntary impulses,
we follow the first clue that experience
gives us, and accept the indication
with the whole ἔτος of these natural
88. under the stro
Prvabeas to act somehow, an ateeal
accepts any lead that is presented, and
if successful, abides by that lead with
unshaken confidence. This is tha
instinct of credulity so commonly at-
tributed to the infant mind. It is not
the single instance, or the repetition of

two or , that es up the stron,

tone of confidence; it is the d's
own active de finding some
definite vent in the fication of its

ends, and abiding the discovery
with the whole energy uf the character,
until the occurrence of some chec
failure, or contradiction. The force o:
belief, therefore, is not one rising from
zero to a full development by slow
to gth of the

activity
system, and taking ite direction

and rectification from experience
(p. 688). The anticipation of nature,
80 strenuously repudiated by Bacon,

the o of this c ristic
of the men system. With the
active tendency at its maximum, and

the exercise of intelligence and ac-
quired knowledge at the minimum,
ere can issue no but a quantity

of rash enterprises. e respectable
name generalisation, implying the best
products of enlightened scientific re-
search, has also a different meaning,
expressing one of the most erroneous
impulses and crudest determinations
of untutored human nature. To ex-
tend some familiar and narrow experi-
ence, so as to comprehend cases the

t most distant, isa piece of mere reckless

instinct, demanding severe discipline
for ites correction. I have mentioned
the case of our supposing all other
minds constituted like our own. The
veriest infant has got this length in
the career of fallacy. Sound ief,
instead of being a c and gentle
growth, is inr ity e battering of a
series of strongholds, the conquering of
a country in hostile occupation. is
is a fact common both to the individual
and to the race. Observation is una-
nimous on the point. It will probably
be long ere the last of the delusions
attributable to this method of believing
first and proving afterwards can be
eradicated from humanity.” (8rd ed.,
p. 505 seq.]

220.

EUTHYDEMOUS.

CHaP. XXE

causes which promote the success and encourage the multiplica-
tion of Fallacies generally, are first, the emotional bias towards
particular conclusions, which disposes persons to accept any
apparent evidence, favourable to such conclusion, as if it were
real evidence: next, the careless and elliptical character of
common speech, in which some parts of the evidence are merely

insinuated, and other parts altogether left out.

It is this last

circumstance which gives occasion to the very extensive class of
Fallacies called by Mr. Mill Fallacies of Confusion : a class so
large, that the greater number of Fallacies might plausibly be

brought under it.) _

1 Mill, ‘System of c,’ Book V.,
to which is prefixed the following
citation from Hobbes’s ‘Logica’.
“‘Errare non modo o et
negando, sed etiam in sentiendo, et
in tacita hominum cogitatione, con-

. Mill points out forcibly both
the ο retiring moral ct Rite
jias perv e an
causing sophiams or fallacies to pro-

duce conviction ; Y
chance afforded for the success of a
the promises, which is unavoidable in

e pre is unavoi

Ὁ ons.
‘‘ Bias is not a direct source of wrong
conclasions (v.18) ΕἸ we cannot be-
eve ἃ proposition o y wishing, or
only by ing, to beliove it. Bias
acts indirectly y placing the intel-
lectual grounds of ef in an incom-
plete or distorted shape before a man’s
eyes. It makes him shrink from the
irksome labour of a rigorous induction.
It operates too by making him loo
out eagerly τον τὶ reasons, or a
reasons, to su opinions w
conformable, Or resist those which are
repugnan’ rests or feelings ;
and when the interests or feelings are
common to great numbers of persons
reasons are or pass curren’
which would not for a moment be
listened to in that character, if the
conclusion had nothing more powerful

nt
ch are

than ite reasons to in its behalf.
The natural or acq prejudices of
mankind are t throwing up
philosophical theories, the sole recom-

mendation of which consists in the

cherished doctrines, or ἢ
favourite feelings; and when any one

k accustomed to bring his reasoni

of these theories has become so
thoroughly discredited as no lo to
serve © purpose, another is ves
ready to take its place.”—‘‘ Though

opinions of the generality of mankind,
when not dependent upon mere habit
and inculcation, have their root much
more in the inclinations than in the
intellect, it is a necessary condition to
the triumph of the moral bias that it
should first pervert the understand-

Again in v. 2,3. ‘It is not in the
nature of bad reasoning to e
itself unambiguously. ena
whether he 15 imposing upon himself
ora pting to impose upon ers,
can be constrained to throw his -
ment intw so distinct a form, it n
in a large number of cases, no

and the increased ing

er
exposure. In all arguments, every-
where but in the schools, some of the
links are suppressed : a fortiori, when
the arguer either intends to deceive, or
is a lame and inexpert thinker, little
ro-
cesses to any test; and it is in those

of the reasoning which are made
in this tacit and half-conscious, or even
wholly unconscious, manner, that the
error oftenest lurks. In order to

but the reasoner, most likely, has never
really asked himself w he was
assuming; his confuter, unless per-
mitted to extort it from him by the
Socratic mode of interrogation, must
himself judge what the suppressed
premiss ought to be, in order to sup-
port the conclusion.” Mr. Mill pro-
coeds to illustrate this confusion by an
excellent passage ci rom 8
‘Logic’. I may add, that Pecern f

CHap. XXI. VALUE.OF FORMAL DEBATE. 231

We thus see not only that the fallacious agencies are self-
operative, generating their own weeds in the common Value of for-
soil of human thought and speech, without being m™#! debate
planted by Athenian Sophists or watered by Eristic for
—but that this very Eristic affords the best means of
restraining their diffusion. It is only in formal
debate that the disputant can be forced to make clear to himself
and declare explicitly to others, without reserve or omission, all
the premisses upon which his conclusion rests—that every part
of these premisses becomes liable to immediate challenge by an
opponent—that the question comes distinctly under considera-
tion, what is or is not sufficient evidence—that the premisses of
one argument can be compared with the premisses of another, so
that if in the former you are tempted to acquiesce in them as
sufficient because you have a bias favourable to the conclusion, in
the latter you may be made to feel that they are insufficient,
because the conclusion which they prove is one which you know
to be untrue (reductio ad absurdum). The habit of formal debate
(called by those who do not like it, Eristic*) is thus an indispen-
sable condition both for the exposure and confutation of fallacies,
which exist quite independent of that habit—owing their rise
and prevalence to deep-seated psychological causes.

Without the experience acquired by this habit of dialectic
debate at Athens, Plato could not have composed his withoutthe
Euthydémus, exhibiting a reductio ad absurdum of habit of

formal de-
several verbal fallacies—nor could we have had the bate, Plato

himself makes a remark substantially
the same—That the same fallacy may
be referred to one general head or
another, accor to circumstances.
Sophist. Elench. 83, 182, b. 10.

ntersuchungen tiber die Zeitfolge
er Plat. Schriften, p. 257.) In re-
ference to the distinction which Ari-
stotle attempts to draw between Dia-
lectic and Kristic—the former legiti-

The Platonic critics talk about the
‘Eristics (as they do about the Sophists)
as if that name designated a known
and definite class of persons. This is
al er misleading. The term is
vituperative, and was applied by dif-
ferent persons according to their own

Ueberweg remarks with great justice,
that Tsokrates called all speculators on
philosophy by the name of Eristics.

‘Als ob jener Rhetor nicht (wie ja
doch Spengel selbst gut nachgewiesen
hat) alle und jede Spekulation mit dem
N der Eristik bezeichneto.”

mate, the latter illegitimate—we must
remark that even in the legitimate
Dialectic the purpose prominent in his
mind is that of victory over an oppo-
nent. He enjoins that you are not
only to rd against your opponent,
lest he should out-marceuvre you, but
you are to conceal and disguise the
sequence of your questions so as to
out-manceuvre him. Χρὴ δ᾽ ὅπερ φυ-
λάττεσθαι παραγγέλλομεν ἀποκρινομέ-
νους, αὐτοὺς ἐπιχειροῦντας πειρᾶσθαι
λανθάνειν. Anal. ior. ii. 66, a. 82.

Compare Topic. 108, a. 25, 166, a. 23,
164, 4 85. P . .

222 EUTHYDEMUS. Cusp. XXL

could not —_ logical theories of Aristotle, embodied in the Analy-

his tica and Topica with its annexed treatise De Sophis-
qathy- , ticis Elenchis, in which various fallacies are dis-
Art criminated and classified. These theories, and the
De Sophisti- corollaries connected with them, do infinite honour —
cisElenchis: (0 the comprehensive intellect of Aristotle: but he
could not have conceived them without previous study of the
ratiocinative process. He, as the first theorizer, must have had
before him abundant arguments explicitly laid out, and con-
tested, or open to be contested, at every step by an opponent.'
Towards such habit of formal argumentation, a strong repugnance
was felt by many of the Athenian public, as there is among
modern readers generally: but those who felt thus, had probably
little interest in the speculations either of Plato or of Aristotle.
That the Platonic critics should themselves feel this same repug-
nance, seems to me not consistent with their admiration for the
great dialectician and logician of antiquity: nor can I at all
subscribe to their view, when they present to us the inherent
infirmities of the human intellect as factitious distempers gene-
rated by the habit of formal debate, and by the rapacity of Pro-
tagoras, Prodikus, and others.

I think it probable that the dialogue of Euthydémus, as far as
Probable the point to which I have brought it (t.¢, where So-
popularity _krates finishes his recital to Kriton of the conversation
thydémusat which he had had with the two Sophists), was among
Seloomed the most popular of all the Platonic dialogues: not
by all the merely because of its dramatic vivacity and charm of
Dialectic. expression, but because it would be heartily wel-
comed by the numerous enemies of Dialectic at Athens. We
must remember that in the estimation of most persons at Athens,
Dialectic included Sokrates and all the virt Sokratics (Plato
among them), just as much as the persons called Sophists. The
discreditable picture here given of Euthydémus and Diony-
sodorus, would be considered as telling against Dialectic and the
Sokratic Elenchus generally : while the rhetors, and others who
dealt in long continuous discourse, would treat it as a blow

* Book VIL rational faculty, like those of every

Mer ΡΟ κοίτα Jes ‘of vidence and other natural agency, are only got by
‘Theories of Method, are not not to becon- seeing the agent at work.”
structed @ ws of our

Ouap. XXL POPULARITY OF THIS DIALOGUE. 223

inflicted upon the rival art.of dialogue, by the professor of the
dialogue himself. In Plato’s view, the dialogue was the special
and appropriate manifestation of philosophy.

That the natural effect of the picture here drawn by Plato,
was, to justify the antipathy of those who hated philo- x llogue o of
sophy—we may see by the epilogue which Plato has Dislogwen®
thought fit to annex: an epilogue so little in har- tryi
mony with what has preceded, that we might almost interence by
imagine it to be an afterthought—yet obviously in- opponents—
tended to protect philosophy against imputations. tion be-
Sokrates having concluded the recital, in his ironical {een 5°,
way, by saying that he intended to become a pupil Kriton.
under the two Sophists, and by inviting Kriton to be a pupil
along with him—Kriton replies by saying that he is anxious to
obtain instruction from any one who can give it, but that he has
no sympathy with Euthydémus, and would rather be refuted by
him, than learn from him to refute in such a manner. Kriton
proceeds to report to Sokrates the remarks of a by-stander (an
able writer of discourses for the Dikastery) who had heard all
that passed ; and who expressed his surprise that Sokrates could
have remained so long listening to such nonsense, and mani-
festing so much deference for a couple of foolish men. Never-
theless (continued the by-stander) this couple are among the most
powerful talkers of the day upon philosophy. This shows you
how worthless a thing philosophy is: prodigious fuss, with con-
temptible result—men careless what they say, and carping at
every word that they hear.}

Now, Sokrates (concludes Kriton), this man is wrong for
depreciating philosophy, and all others who depreciate it are
wrong also. But he was right in blaming you, for disputing with
such a couple before a large crowd.

Sokr.—What kind of person is this censor of philosophy? Is
he a powerful speaker himself in the Dikastery? Or is he only
a composer of discourses to be spoken by others? Krit.—The
latter. I do not think that he has ever spoken in court: but
every one says that he knows judicial practice well, and that
he composes admirable speeches.

1 Plat. Euthyd. pp. 804-806. 2 Plat. Euthyd. p. 806.

224 EUTHYDEMUS. Cuap. XXII.

Sokr.—I understand the man. He belongs to that class whom
Altered Prodikus describes as the border-men between philo-
tone in sophy and politics. Persons of this class account
of ΤΣ themselves the wisest of mankind, and think farther
démus—». that besides being such in reality, they are also ad-
ment of mired as such by many: insomuch that the admira-
balf-philo- tion for them would be universal, if it were not for
Balt pot the professors of philosophy. Accordingly they fancy,

that if they could once discredit these philosophers,
the pr prize of glory would be awarded to themselves, without. con-
troversy, by every one: they being in truth the wisest men in
society, though liable, if ever they are caught in dialectic debate,
to be overpowered and humbled by men like Euthydémus.!
They have very plausible grounds for believing in their own
wisdom, since they pursue both philosophy and politics to a
moderate extent, as far as propriety enjoins ; and thus pluck the
fruit of wisdom without encountering either dangers or contests.
Krit.—What do you say to their reasoning, Sokrates? It seems.
to me specious. Sokr.—Yes, it is specious, but not well founded.
You cannot easily persuade them, though nevertheless it is true,
that men who take a line mid-way between two pursuits, are
better than either, if both pursuits be bad—worse than either, if
both pursuits be good, but tending to different ends—better than
one and worse than the other, if one of the pursuits be bad
and the other good—tetter than both, if both be bad, but tending
to different ends. Such being the case, if the pursuit of philo-
sophy and that of active politics be both of them good, but
tending to different objects, these men are inferior to the
pursuers of one as well as of the other: if one be ‘good, the other
bad, they are worse than the pursuers of the former, better than
the pursuers of the latter: if both be bad, they are better than
either. Now I am sure that these men themselves account both
philosophy and politics to be good. Accordingly, they are
inferior both to philosophers and politicians :? they occupy only
the third rank, though they pretend to be in the first. While

Woe τοῖς ἐδίοις Sige ὅταν φοτάτονς démus and his like.

ὃ τῶν i Ἑὐυθύδημον κολούεσθαι.
ὑπὸ at ioe may mean Euthy- 3 Plat. Kuthyd. Ὁ. 806 B.

Crap. XXI. SEMI-PHILOSOPHERS INFERIOR MEN. 225

we pardon such a pretension, ‘and refrain from judging these men
severely, we must nevertheless recognise them for such as they
really are. We must be content with every one, who announces
any scheme of life, whatever it be, coming within the limits
of intelligence, and who pursues his work with persevering
resolution.!

Krit.—I am always telling you, Sokrates, that
embarrassed where to seek instructors for my sons.
Conversation with you has satisfied me, that it is
madness to bestow so much care upon the fortune
and position of sons, and so little upon their instruc-
tion, Yet when I turn my eyes to the men who
make profession of instructing, I am really astonished.
To tell you the truth, every one of them appears to fercher
me extravagantly absurd,? so that I know not how to search for
help forward my son towards philosophy. Sokr.— [mself.
Don’t you know, Kriton, that in every different pursuit, most of
the professors are foolish and worthless, and that a few only are
excellent and above price? Is not this the case with gymnastic,
commercial business, rhetoric, military command? Are not
most of those who undertake these pursuits ridiculously silly ?*
Krit.— Unquestionably : nothing can be moretrue. Sokr.—Do you
think that a sufficient reason for avoiding all these pursuits yourself,
and keeping your son out of them also? Krit—No: it would
be wrong to do 80. Sokr.—Well then, don’t do so. Take no
heed about the professors of philosophy, whether they are good
or bad; but test philosophy itself, well and carefully. If it
shall appear to you worthless, dissuade not merely your sons, but
every one else also, from following it. But if it shall appear to
you as valuable as I consider it to be, then take courage to pursue
and practise it, you and your children both, according to the
proverb.—

1Plat. Euthyd. p. 806 σ. ts ἀλλόκοτος εἶναι, &.
γιγνώσκειν μὲ μὲν οὖν αὐτοῖς χρὴ Plato, Euthyd. p. 807 B. ἐν

πιθυμίας καὶ μὴ χαλεπαίνειν, ὑγεῖσθαι ἑκάστῃ τούτων τοὺς πολλι πολλοὺς πρὸς ἕκαστον

ν οὗ Kar
ἀρχιε Ἐπιλτγὰ τι Το ἢ, ἐάσας
χαίρειν τοις ἐπιτηδεύοντας φιλοσοφίαν,

etre χρηστοί εἰσιν εἴτε πονηροί, αὐτὸ τὸ

τοιούτους εἶναι οἷοί εἶσι" πάντα
dp ἄνδρα χρὴ ἀγαπᾷν, ὅστις καὶ ὁτιοῦν
ι ἐχόμε νον ρονήσεως πρᾶγμα, καὶ

specie re ιὼν διαπονεῖται
uthyd. Ὁ καί μοι
ΜΠ Pm ἕκαστος αὑτῶν 50 δου δὼ πάνν

πρᾶγμα βασανίσας οτος Ἦν re καὶ εὖ, ἐ

φαίνηται φαυλὸν by,

2—15

226 EUTHYDEMUS. Caar. XXI.

The first part of this epilogue, which I have here given in
Euthy- abridgment, has a bearing very different from the
démusis rest of the dialogue, and different also from most of
as represen. the other Platonic dialogues. In the epilogue, Euthy-
tativeot _ démus is cited as the representative of. true dialectic
and philo and philosophy: the opponents of philosophy are
represented as afraid of being put dewn by Euthy-
démus: whereas, previously, he had been depicted as con-
temptible,—as a man whose manner of refuting opponents was
more discreditable to himself than to the opponent refuted ; and
who had no chance of success except among hearers like himself.
We are not here told that Euthydémus was a bad specimen of
philosophers, and that there were others better, by the standard ©
of whom philosophy ought to be judged. On the contrary, we
find him here announced by Sokrates as among those dreaded
by men adverse to philosophy,—and as not undeserving of that
epithet which the semi-philosopher cited by Kriton applies to
“one of the most powerful champions of the day ”.

Plato, therefore, after having applied his great dramatic talent
to make dialectic debate ridiculous, and thus said much to gratify
its enemies—changes his battery, and says something against
these enemies, without reflecting whether it is consistent or not
with what had preceded. Before the close, however, he comes
again into consistency with the tone of the earlier part, in the
observation which he assigns to Kriton, that most of the pro-
fessors of philosophy are worthless ; to which Sokrates rejoins
that this is not less true of all other professions. The concluding
inference is, that philosophy is to be judged, not by its professors,
but by itself; and that Kriton must examine it for himself, and
either pursue it or leave it alone, according as his own ¢onvic-
tions dictated.

This is a valuable admonition, and worthy of Sokrates, laying
full stress as it does upon the conscientious conviction which the
person examining may form for himself. But it is no answer to
the question of Kriton; who says that he had already heard from
Sokrates, and was himself convinced, that philosophy was of
first-rate importance—and that he only desired to learn where he
could find teachers to forward the progress of his son init. As
in so many other dialogues, Plato leaves the problem started, but

CuaP. XXI. PERSON MEANT IS ISOKRATES. 227

unsolved. The impulse towards philosophy being assured, those
who feel it ask Plato in what direction they are to move towards
it. He gives no answer. He can neither perform the service
himself, nor recommend any one else, as competent. We shall
find such silence made matter of pointed animadversion, in the
fragment called Kleitophon.

The person, whom Kriton here brings forward as the censor of
Sokrates and the enemy of philosophy, i is peculiarly marked. In
general, the persons whom Plato ranks as enemies of philosophy
are the rhetors and politicians: but the example here who is the
chosen is not comprised in either of these classes: it pooodad by
is a semi-philosopher, yet a writer of discourses for log half-
others. Schleiermacher, Heindorf, and Spengel, sup- δον, “half.
pose that Isokrates is the person intended: Winckel- politician
mann thinks it is Thrasymachus: others refer it to krates?
Lysias, or Theodorus of Byzantium :? Socher and Stallbaum
doubt whether any special person is intended, or any thing
beyond some supposed representative of a class described by
attributes. I rather agree with those who refer the passage to
Isokrates. He might naturally be described as one steering a
middle course between philosophy and rhetoric: which in fact
he himself proclaims in the Oration De Permutatione, and which
agrees with the language of Plato in the dialogue Phedrus,
where Isokrates is mentioned by name along with Lysias. In
the Phedrus, moreover, Plato speaks of Isokrates with unusual
esteem, especially as a favourable contrast with Lysias, and as a
person who, though not yet a philosopher, may be expected to
improve, so as in no long time to deserve that appellation.2 We

1 Stallbaum, Proleg. ad re p. compositions of Plato. That it is of
47; Winckelmann, Prol XXXV. later τ composition ular date can only
Heindorf, in endeavouring to explain bat of wha: te can_onl
the difference between Plato's lan be conjec thes opihion of K.
in the Phedrus and εἶα the uthy- Hermann, Stallbaum, opi others, that
démus respecting assumes it was composed about the time when
asa matter beyond question the theory Plato began his school at Athens
of Schleiermacher, th hat the Pheedrus (387-386 B.C.) is sufficiently probable.
was com d during Plato’s early menue Euthydémus may be earlier or
years. I have already intimated my be later than the Phedrus. I
dissent from this theory. e to think it later. The opinion
2 Plato, Phedrus, p. 278 of Stallbaum (resting εν the men-
I have already κων that I do tion of Alkibiadeés, 5 A), that it
not agree with Schleiermacher andthe was com in οὗ ‘before 404 404 BC,
other critics who rank the Phsedrus as appears me untenable (Stallbaam,
the earliest or even among the’ earliest leg. p. 64). Plato would not be

228 EUTHYDEMUS. Cuap. XXI_:

must remember that Plato in the Phedrus attacks by name, and
with considerable asperity, first Lysias, next Theodorus and
Thrasymachus the rhetors—all three persons living and of note.”
Being sure to offend all these, Plato might well feel disposed to
avoid making an enemy of Isokrates at the same time, and to
except him honourably by name from the vulgar professors of
rhetoric. In the Euthydémus (where the satire is directed not
against the rhetors, but against their competitors the dialecticians’
or pseudo-dialecticians) he had no similar motive to address com-.-
pliments to Isokrates: respecting whom he speaks in a manner
probably more conformable to his real sentiments, as the un-
named representative of a certain type of character—a semi-
philosopher, fancying himself among the first men in Athens, and
assuming unwarrantable superiority over the genuine philo-
sopher ; but entitled to nothing more than a decent measure
of esteem, such as belonged to sincere mediocrity of intel-
ligence.

That there prevailed at different times different sentiments,
Variable more or less of reciprocal esteem or reciprocal jea-
feclingat —_ lousy, between Plato and Isokrates, ought not to be-
times, matter of surprise. Both of them were celebrated
between | teachers of Athens, each in his own manner, during
Isokrates. the last forty years of Plato’s life: both of them en-
joyed the favour of foreign princes, and received pupils from out-
lying, sometimes distant, cities—from Bosphorus and Cyprus in
the East, and from Sicily in the West. We know moreover that
during the years immediately preceding Plato’s death (347 B.c.),
his pupil Aristotle, then rising into importance as a teacher of
rhetoric, was engaged in acrimonious literary warfare, seemingly

likely to introduce Sokrates speakin; speaking démus as an immediate sequel to the
biadés as a deceased person, Menon, and δ both
Chatever time the dialogue was com- Gorgiag and Thes tus tas Chin. Sp. 400-
posed. Norcan 1 agree with Steinhart, 40 Socher agrees in this o pinion,
who ooo it to 402 B.c. (Einleitung, but Steinhart rejects ects it (Kinleit. 26),
Ueberweg (Untersuch. iiber p the Euthydémus immediately
Θ ἽΖδιμοὶ e der Plat. Schr. pp. 265- after the Protagoras, and immediately
267) considers the Euthydémus later before the Menon and the Gorgias;
(but not much later) than the Phzedrus, according to him, Euthydémus, Menon,
subsequent to the establishment of the and Gorgias, form a well mark
Platonic school at Athens (387-836 Trilogy.
B.C.) This seems to me more probable Neither of these arrangements rests
than the contrary. a n any sufficient reasons. The
the chronological order cannot be deter-

CuHap. XXI. PLATO AND ISOKRATES. 229

of his own seeking, with Isokrates (then advanced in years) and
some of the Isokratean pupils. The little which we learn con-
cerning the literary and philosophical world of Athens, repre-
sents it as much distracted by feuds and jealousies. Isokrates on
his part has in his compositions various passages which appear to
allude (no name being mentioned) to Plato among others, in a
tone of depreciation.!

Isokrates seems, as far as we can make out, to have been in
early life, like Lysias, a composer of speeches to be spoken by
clients in the Dikastery. This lucrative profession was tempting,
since his family had been nearly ruined during the misfortunes
of Athens at the close of the Peloponnesian war. Having gained
reputation by such means, Isokrates became in his mature age-a
teacher of Rhetoric, and a composer of discourses, not for private
use by clients, but for the general reader, on political or educa-
tional topics. In this character, he corresponded to the descrip-
tion given by Plato in the Euthydémus: being partly a public
adviser, partly a philosopher. But the general principle under
which Plato here attacks him, though conforming to the doctrine
of the Platonic Republic, is contrary to that of Plato in other dia-
logues. “ You must devote yourself either wholly to philosophy,
or wholly to politics : a mixture of the two 18 worse than either”
—this agrees with the Republic, wherein Plato enjoins upon each
man one special and exclusive pursuit, as well as with the doc-
trine maintained against Kalliklés in the Gorgias—but it differs
from the Phedrus, where he ascribes the excellence of Perikles
as a statesmen and rhetor, to the fact of his having acquired a
large tincture of philosophy.? Cicero quotes this last passage as
applicable to his own distinguished career, a combination of phi-
losophy with politics. He dissented altogether from the doc-
trine here laid down by Plato in the Euthydémus, and many
other eminent men would have dissented from it also.

As a doctrine of universal application, in fact, it cannot be

1 Isokrates, ad Philipp. Or. v. 8. 14, Utrecht, 1859, Qusestiones Isocrates,
p. 84; contra Sophistas, Or. xiii. ; Or. p. 51, seq.
xiii. 2-24, pp. 291-295 ; Encom. Plato, Pheedrus, p. 270; Plutarch,
Helens, Or. x. init. ; Panathenaic. Or. Periklés, c. 28; Plato, Republic, iii. p. -
xil, a. 126, p. 257 j Or. xv. De Permu- 397.

ὁ See tho frets 3 Cicero, De Orator. iii. 84, 183;

about see ehecdae sag oie ’

good’ ἢ 90 the facts by H. P. Schroder Orator. iv. 14; Brutus, 11, 44.

330 EUTHYDEMUS. Chap. XXE.

defended. The opposite scheme of life (which is maintained by
Isokrates in De Permutatione and by Kalliklés in the Platonic
Gorgias) 1—that philosophy is to be attentively studied in the
earlier years of life as an intellectual training, to arm the mind
with knowledge and capacities which may afterwards be applied
to the active duties of life—is at least equally defensible, and
suits better for other minds of a very high order. Not only
Xenophon and other distinguished Greeks, but also most of the
best Roman citizens, held the opinion which Plato in the Gorgias
ascribes to Kalliklés and reprobates through the organ of So-
krates—That philosophical study, if prolonged beyond what was
necessary for this purpose of adequate intellectual training, and
if made the permanent occupation of life, was more hurtful than
beneficial.? Certainly, a man may often fail in the attempt to
combine philosophy with active politics. No one failed in such
a career more lamentably than Dion, the friend of Plato—and
Plato himself, when he visited Sicily to second Dion. Moreover
Alkibiadés and Kritias were cited by Anytus and the other
accusers of Sokrates as examples of the like mischievous conjunc-
tion. But on the other hand, Archytas at Tarentum (another
friend of Plato and philosopher) administered his native city with
success, as long (seemingly) as Periklés administered Athens.
Such men as these two are nowise inferior either to the special

1 Isokrates, De Permutatione, Or. ue vehementius quam
xv. sect. 278-288, pp. 485-486, Bekk. ; lants ote retinuitque, quod es est

Plato, PR. um, ex sapientiA

2 The half-p osophers and _half- Wit Agee ὦ,
politicians to whom Sokrates here Tacitus expresses himself in the
alludes, are characterised by one of the same manner about the p with

Platonic critics as “‘jene oberflich- which Helvidius Priscus applied him-
lichen und schwiichlichen Naturen die self to philosophy (Hist. iv. 6): ‘‘non,
sich en - que, ut nomine magnifico segne

und zur Erreichung selbsteuchti otium velaret, sed quo constantior ad-
und beschrinkter Zwecke von beiden versus fortuita rempublicam capes-

fhn efallt” (Steinhart, Einleit p. Com also th ΤᾺ]
en ” e memo: e
35) On Eo Iced by

Tacitas a inthis youth af (Thue. ii. 40)-- φιλοσοφοῦμεν
the stz stadlies of micola youth ἔνεν μαλακίας, &c., which exhibits the
Θ views.

ipeun iS mare, Ce Tn os Foventa Aulus Gellius (x. 22), who cites the
philosophiz acrius, us, ultra quam doctrine which P ato ascribes to Kal-
concessum Roman ri, hausisse liklés in the Gorgias (about the pro-
—ni prudentia oateie in inoehsam ac priety of confining pl philosophy to the
flagrante : Sci- ction of training ἃ and preparation
licet sublime et erectum ingenium, for active pursuits), tries to make out
pulchritudinem ac speciem excelse that this was Plato's own opinion.

βαρ, XXL. PLATO'S VIEW UNTENABLE. 232

philosopher or to the spectal politician. Plato has laid down an
untenable generality, in this passage of the Euthydémus, in order
to suit a particular point which he wished to make against Iso-

krates, or against the semi-philosopher indicated, whoever else
he may have been.

429 MENON. Cuar. XXIL

CHAPTER XXIL
MENON.

Tuts dialogue is carried on between Sokrates and Menon, a man
Persons of noble family, wealth, and political influence, in the
of the Thessalian city of Larissa. He is supposed to have
Dialogue. previously frequented, in his native city, the lectures
and society of the rhetor Gorgias! The name and general
features of Menon are probably borrowed from the Thessalian
military officer, who commanded a division of the Ten Thousand
Greeks, and whose character Xenophon depicts in the Anabasis :
but there is nothing in the Platonic dialogue to mark that mean-
ness and perfidy which the Xenophontic picture indicates. The
conversation between Sokrates and Menon is interrupted by two
episodes : in the first of these, Sokrates questions an unlettered
youth, the slave of Menon: in the second, he is brought into
conflict with Anytus, the historical accuser of the historical So-
krates.

The dialogue is begun by Menon, in a manner quite as abrupt
as the Hipparchus and Minos :

Menon.—Can you tell me, Sokrates, whether virtue is teach-
Question § able—or acquirable by exercise—or whether it comes
pre by by nature—or in what other manner it comes? Sokr.

enon— :
virtue ; —I cannot answer your question. I am ashamed to
achable say that I do not even know what virtue is: and

when I do not know what a thing is, how can I know
notknow any thing about its attributes or accessories? A man
is. Surprise Who does not know, Menon, cannot tell whether he is
of Menon. handsome, rich, &c., or the contrary. Menon.—Cer-

We notices Isokrates as having heard Gorgias in Thessaly (Orator. 53,

Cuapv. ΧΧΤΙ: 13 VIRTUE TEACHABLE ? 233

tainly not. But is it really true, Sokrates, that you do not know
what virtue is? Am I to proclaim this respecting you, when 1
go home?! Sokr.—Yes—undoubtedly: and proclaim besides
that I have never yet met with any one who did know. Menon.
—What ! have you not seen Gorgias at Athens, and did not he
appear to you to know? Sokr.—I have met him, but I do not
quite recollect what he said. We need not consider what he
said, since he is not here to answer for himself? But you doubt-:
less recollect, and can tell me, both from yourself, and from him,
what virtue is? Menon.—There is no difficulty in telling you.*

Many commentators here speak as if such disclaimer on the
part of Sokrates had reference merely to certain im- gokrates
pudent pretensions to universal knowledge on the standsalone
part of the Sophists. But this (as I have before re- fession. Un-
marked) is a misconception of the Sokratic or Platonic ¢
point of view. The matter which Sokrates proclaims >y it
that he does not know, is, what, not Sophists alone, but every
one else also, professes to know well. Sokrates stands alone in
avowing that he does not know it, and that he can find no one
else who knows. Menon treats the question as one of no diffi-
culty—one on which confessed ignorance was discreditable.
“ ‘What !” says Menon, “am I really to state respecting you, that
you do not know what virtue is?” The man who makes such a
confession will be looked upon by his neighbours with surprise
and displeasure—not to speak of probable consequences yet
worse. He is one whom the multifarious agencies employed
by King Nomos (which we shall find described more at length
in the Protagoras) have failed to mould into perfect and unin-
quiring conformity, and he is still in process of examination to
form a judgment for himself.

Menon proceeds to answer that there are many virtues : the
virtue of a man—competence to transact the business Answer of
of the city, and in such business to benefit his friends plurality of

1 Plato, Menon, p. 71 B-C. ᾿Αλλὰ is present to explain and defend: com-
σύ, ὦ Σώκρατες, οὐδ᾽ ὅ τι ἀρετή ἐστιν pare what he says about the useless-
οἷσθα, ἀλλὰ ταῦτα περὶ σοῦ καὶ οἴκαδε ness of citation from poeta, from whom
ἀπαγγέλλωμεν; ou can ask no questions, Plato,

3 Plato, Menon, p. a Ὦ. ἐκεῖνον tagor. p. 347 E.
μέντοι vuy ἐωμεν ewe και αἀπέστιν. 3 Plato Menon, Ῥ. 71 Ἑ. ᾿Αλλ’ οὐ
Sokrates sets litle value upon opinions αν τόν, ᾧ Σώκρατέρ, οἰσεῖν, We.

πων Cur. XXL
and injure his enemies: the virtue of a womssm—to
administer the house well, preserving every thing

Fe Within i and obeying her husband ε the virvuc of &
$5.82 child, of an old man,a slave, & There is im short
Sei, * 7 —and τὰ contrary, ἃ vice—belonging to each
Sererr'y of us in every work, profession, and age?
“τα Bat (replies Sokrates) are they mot all the sume,
quetesus virtue? Health, quatenus Health, is the same in a man
or a woman : is not the case similar with virtue? Menen—Not
exectly similar. Sokr.—How 201 Though there are many
diverte virtues, have not all of them one and the same form in
common, through the communion of which they ere virtues? In
spswer to my question, you ought to declare what this common
form is. Thus, both the man who administers the city, and the
woman who administers the house, must act both of them with
Jee and the other are good. There is thus some common con-
siitvent: tell me what it is, according to you and Gorgias?
Menon—It is to be competent to exercise command over men.
‘gokr—But that will not suit for the virtue of a child or a slave.
‘Ploreover, must we not superadd the condition, to command
7, and not unjustly? Menon—I think so : justice is virtue.
‘gokr—Is it virtue—or is it one particular variety of virtue ?*
—How do you mean? Sokr.—Just as if I were to sy
Fyout roundness, that it is not figure, but a particular variety of
+ because there are other figures besides roundness. Menon.
ne very true: I say too, that there are other virtues besides justice
namely, courage, moderation, wisdom, magnanimity, and several
Gers olso. Sokr.—We are thus etill in the same
Gh tooking for one virtue, we have found many ; but we cannot
ye 4 that one form which runs throngh them all. Menom—I
cannot at present tell what that one is

Menon, po 72 A

τῶν πράξεων κι

ΤΥ

met ect Son,
Se ara
Belin os Rs rege

Cuap. XXIT- PLURALITY OF VIRTUES. 235

Sokrates proceeds to illustrate his meaning by the analogies of
figure and colour. You call round a figure, and square
a figure: you call white and black both colour, the one cases cited
as much as the other, though they are unlike and
even opposite.! Tell me, What is this same common figureand
property in both, which makes you call both of them
figure— both of them colour? Take this as a preliminary
exercise, in order to help you in answering my enquiry about
virtue.2 Menon cannot answer, and Sokrates answers his own
question. He gives a general definition, first of figure, next of
colour. He first defines figure in a way which implies colour to
be known. This is pointed out; and he then admits that in a
good definition, suitable to genuine dialectical investigation,
nothing should be implied as known, except what the respondent
admits himself to know. Figure and colour are both defined
suitably to this condition.*

All this preliminary matter seems to be intended for the pur-
pose of getting the question clearly conceived 88 ἃ 7 co
general question—of exhibiting and eliminating the at that time
narrow and partial conceptions which often uncon- into con-
sciously substitute themselves in the mind, in place scious view,
of that which ought to be conceived as a generic or nation
whole—and of clearing up what is required in a tinctions—
good definition. A generic whole, including various joc:¢ nor
specific portions distinguishable from each other, was mar
at that time little understood by any one. There been cast
existed no grammar, nor any rules of logic founded ito #ystem-
on analysis of the intellectual processes. To predicate of the
genus what was true only of the species—to predicate as distinc-
tively characterizing the species, what is true of the whole genus.
in which it is contained—to lose the integrity of the genus in its
separate parcels or fragments ‘—these were errors which men had
never yet been expressly taught to avoid. To assign the one
common meaning, constituent of or connoted by a generic term,

1 Plato, Menon, p. 74 D. spondent is here distinctly announced.
2 Plato, Menon, ας 7, pp. 74- 75. 3 Plato, Menon, p. 75 C-E.
Πειρῶ εἰπεῖν, ἵνα καὶ γένηταί σοι μελέτη 4 Plato, Menon, p. 79 A. “oe
πρὸς τὴν περὶ τῆς ἀρετῆς ἀπόκρισιν (7b δεηθέντος gov μὴ κα Ἃ ἜΣ ina iss
ματίξζειν τὴν

rhe purpose of practising the re- δεηθέντος ὅλην ἐκεῖν, τὴν τα ρετήν; ἄϊο

236 MENON. Cuap. XXIE

had never yet been put before them as a problem. Such pre-
liminary clearing of the ground is instructive even now, when
formal and systematic logic has become more or less familiar :
but in the time of Plato, it must have been indispensably
required, to arrive at a full conception of any general question.
Menon having been thus made to understand the formal
requisites for a definition, gives as his definition of

Definition

circa be virtue the phrase of some lyric poet—“ To delight in,
Henon enon 5 or desire, things beautiful, fine, honourable—and to
soit t itto have the power of getting them”. But Sokrates re-
pieces. marks that honourable things are good things, and

that every one without exception desires good. No one desires’
evil except when he mistakes it for good. On this point all men
are alike ; the distinctive feature of virtue must then consist in
the second half of the definition—in the power of acquiring good
things, such as health, wealth, money, power, dignities, &.* But
the acquisition of these things is not virtuous, unless it be made
consistently with justice and moderation: moreover the man
who acts justly is virtuous, even though he does not acquire
them. It appears then that every agent who acts with justice

tions, which were then for the first
time pressed forcibly upon atten-

tion.
3 Plato, Menon, Ῥ- ΤΊ Β. δοκεῖ τοί»
νυν μοι ἀρετὴ εἶναι, καθάπε ὃ rocaris

1 These examples of trial, error, and
exposure, have value and reflect
high credit on Plato, when we
them as an intellectual or propedeutic
discipline, forci reing upon hearers an
attention to useful logical distinctions
at a time when there existed no sys-
tematic grammar or ἐρεῖς. Bat surely

they must a ded, as they
resented i in Mn the Prolegomena of

Stal aum, and by some other critics.
We are there told that Plato's main
urpose in lalogue was to moc
and jeer the Sophists and their pupil,
and that for this purpose Sokrates is.
made to employ not his own arguments

arguments borrowed from the
Sophists themselves—‘“‘ ut callidé suam
ipsius rationem occultare existimandus
sit, quo magis δ νων Sophistarum be
alaumnum "ἢ (p. 1 “ quidem
argumentatio” (thet of Sokra ) Sad-

meaning is somew.
Cag ἰδ ey ernie backs 80.

ethical criticism, as the song of Si-
monides is in the A -
son having power, and dag dclight
in honourable or beautiful a
very intelligible Hellenic idéal, as an
object of envy and admiration. Com-
pare Protagoras, Ὁ. 351 C: εἴπερ τοῖς
καλοῖς ζῴη . A

ιλοκαλοῦμεν μετ μετ᾽ εὐτελείας; is the
pene eriklés in the name of the

modum cavendum est ne pro Socratica
vel PlatonicA accipiatur. Est enim
proreus ad mentem Sophistarum alio-

ue id genus hominum comparata,”
ie. . 16). Compare pp. 12-13 seq.

e Sophists undou tedly had no
distinct consciousness, any more than
other persons, of these logical distinc-

Athenians, Thucyd. ii. 40.

Plato, Menon, p. 78 C. | Sokr. ᾿Αγαϑὰ
δὲ καλεῖς οὐχὶ οἷον χα
πλοῦτον; καὶ
κτᾶσθαι καὶ τιμας ἐν ὧν wince καὶ τὸ tepiosr μὴ
ἄλλ᾽ ἅττα δες “τἀγαθὰ & τὰ τοιαῦτα
Menon. λέγω τὰ

τοίᾶαντα.

CuaP. XXII. DEFINITION OF VIRTUE.

237

and moderation is virfuous, -But this is nugatory as a definition
of virtue: for justice and moderation are only known as parts
of virtue, and require to be themselves defined. No man can
know what a part of virtue is, unless he knows what virtue itself
is! Menon must look for a better definition, including nothing

but what is already known or admitted.

Menon.-—Your conversation, Sokrates, produces the effect of

the shock of the torpedo: you stun and confound me:
you throw me into inextricable perplexity, so that I
can make no answer. I have often discoursed copi-
ously—and, as I thought, effectively—upon virtue ;
but now you have shown that I do not even know
what virtue is. Sokr.—If I throw you into perplexity,
it is only because I am myself in the like perplexity
and ignorance. I do not know what virtue is, any
more than you: and I shall be glad to continue the
search for finding it, if you will assist me.

Menon.—But how are you to search for that of
which you are altogether ignorant? Even if you do
find it, how can you ever know that you have found
it? Sokr.—You are now introducing a troublesome
doctrine, laid down by those who are averse to the
labour of thought. They tell us that a man cannot
search either for what he knows, or for what he does
not know. For the former, research is superfluous :
for the latter it is unprofitable and purposeless, since
the searcher does not know what he is looking for.

I do not believe this doctrine (continues Sokrates).
Priests, priestesses, and poets (Pindar among them)
tell us, that the mind of man is immortal and has
existed throughout-all past time, in conjunction with
successive bodies ; alternately abandoning one body,
or dying—and taking up new life or reviving in
another body. In this perpetual succession of ex-
istences, it has seen every thing,—both here and in
Hades and everywhere else—and has learnt every
thing. But though thus omniscient, it has forgotten
the larger portion of its knowledge. Yet what has

1 Plato, Menon, p. 79.

Menon com-
lains that

Bat how is
the process
of search
available to
any pur-
pose? No

man
searches
for what he
already

knows; and
for what he
does not
know, it is
useless to
search, for
he cannot
tell when
he has
found it.

Th of
remini-
scence pro-
pounded by
krates—
anterior im-
mortality of
the soui—

938 MENON. βαρ. XXIL

what is been thus forgotten may again be revived. What we
teaching is call learning, is such revival. It is reminiscence of
something which the mind had seen in a former state
nitionof οὗ existence, and knew, but had forgotten. Since
acquired in then all the parts of nature are analogous, or cognate
fiTmer —and since the mind has gone through and learnt
forgotten. them all—we cannot wonder that the revival of any
one part should put it upon the track of recovering for itself all
the rest, both about virtue and about every thing else, if a man
will only persevere in intent meditation. All research and all
learning is thus nothing but reminiscence. In our researches,
‘we are not looking for what we do not know: we are looking for
what we do know, but have forgotten. There is therefore
ample motive, and ample remuneration, for prosecuting en-
quiries: and your doctrine which pronounces them to be unpro-
fitable, is incorrect.1
Sokrates proceeds to illustrate the position, just laid down, by
Tiustration cross-examining Menon’s youthful slave, who, though
of this wholly untaught and having never heard any mention
knowledge of geometry, is brought by a proper series of questions
may be by to give answers out of his own mind, furnishing the
solution of a geometrical problem. The first part of
questions in the examination brings him to a perception of the
of aman ly difficulty, and makes him feel & painful perplexity,
untaught. from which he desires to obtain relief :? the second
Sokra‘cs' part guides his mind in the efforts necessary for
eslave fishing up a solution out of its own pre-existing, but
of Menon. forgotten, stores. True opinions, which he had long
had within him without knowing it, are awakened by interroga-
tion, and become cognitions. From the fact that the mind thus

,, 1 Plato, Menon, pp. 81 C-D. ‘Are πάντα αὑτὸν ἀνευρεῖν, ἐάν τις ἀνδρεῖος

οὖν ἡ ψυχὴ ἀθάνατός τε οὖσα Kai πολ- ἢ καὶ μὴ ἀποκάμνῃ ζητῶν. Td γὰρ
λάκις γεγοννῖα, καὶ ἑωρακνυῖα καὶ τὰ ἐητεῖν ἄρα καὶ τὸ μανθάνειν ἀνάμνησις
ἐνθάδε καὶ τὰ ἐν “Acdov καὶ πάντα χρή- ὅλον ἐστίν.

ware, οὐκ ἔστιν ὅ τι οὐ μεμάθηκεν. 2 piato, Menon, p. 84 C, Οἵ

ὥστε οὐδὲν θαυμαστὸν καὶ περὶ ἀρετῆς 5, pian πρότε ον ἀιυκοιρῆσαν, ᾽ν ob
καὶ περὶ ἄλλων οἷόν τε εἶναι αὐτὴν ava- - , ἐρο ° aren

“ . ᾿ reli} ἢ μανθάνειν τοῦτο ὃ ᾧετο εἰδέναι οὐκ

« ινήσθηναι ἃ γε καὶ πρότερον ἠπίστατο. ἰλώς πρὶν eis ἀπορίαν κατέπεσεν ἡἧγη-
Are γὰρ τῆς φύσεως ἁπάσης συγγενοῦς SN y eibé are ὟΝ
οὔσης καὶ μεμαθηκυίας τῆς ψυχῆς ἅπαν- wiBives» os" € Sonet "0, ἐπον

τα, οὐδὲν κωλύει ἕν μόνον ἀναμνησθέντα, ἴσας ? HOt CoKet. vero apa ναρ-

(ὃ δὴ μάθησιν καλοῦσιν ἄνθρωποι, τἄλλα "Ἶ 7

CuaP. XXIL THEORY OF REMINISCENCE. 239

possesses the truth of things which it has not acquired in this
life, Sokrates infers that it must have gone through a pre-
existence of indefinite duration, or must be immortal.'

The former topic of enquiry is now resumed: but at the
instance of Menon, the question taken up, is not— Enquiry
“What is virtue?” but—‘“JIs virtue teachable or ἔφθη ρ--
not?” Sokrates, after renewing his objection against virtue is
the inversion of philosophical order by discussing the without de-
second question without having determined the first, τας virtac
enters upon the discussion hypothetically, assuming 1.
as a postulate, that nothing can be taught except knowledge.
The question then stands thus—“Is virtue knowledge?” If it
be, it can be taught: if not, it cannot be taught.*

Sokrates proceeds to prove that virtue is knowledge, or a mode
of knowledge. Virtue is good: all good things are Virtue is
profitable. But none of the things accounted good margin δ
are profitable, unless they be rightly employed ; that sions, no ios,
is, employed with knowledge or intelligence. This is either of
true not only of health, wealth, beauty, strength, body, are
power, &c., but also of the mental attributes justice,
moderation, courage, quick apprehension, &c. All of except
these are profitable, and therefore good, if brought "der the |
into action under knowledge or right intelligence ; Knowledge.
none of them are profitable or good, without this condition—
which is therefore the distinctive constituent of virtue.*

Virtue, therefore, being knowledge or a mode of knowledge,
cannot come by nature, but must be teachable.

Yet again there are other contrary reasons (he proceeds) which
prove that it cannot be teachable. For if it were 80, virtue, as
there would be distinct and assignable teachers and being know.
learners of it, and the times and places could be be teach.
pointed out where it is taught and learnt. We see Sble. Yet
that: this is the case with all arts and professions. opposing
But in regard to virtue, there are neither recognised showing
teachers, nor learners, nor years of learning. The *batit can-
Sophists pretend to be teachers of it, but are not:* able. No

1 Plato, Menon, p. 86. Οὐκοῦν εἰ ἀεὶ 2 Plato, Menon, p. 87.
ἡ ἀλήθεια ἡμῖν τῶν ὄντων ἐστὶν ἐν τῇ 3 Plato, Menon, p. 89.
ψυχῇ, ἀθάνατος ἂν ἡ ψνχὴ εἴη; 4 Plato, Menon, p. 92.

240 MENON. Cuap. XXIT.

teachers of the leading and esteemed citizens of the community
found. do not pretend to be teachers of it, and are indeed
incompetent to teach it even to their own sons—as the character
of those sons sufficiently proves. 1

Here, a new speaker is introduced into the dialogue—Anytus,
Conversa. one of the accusers of Sokrates before the Dikastery.
tion of So. The conversation is carried on for some time between
Anytus,who Sokrates and him. Anytus denies altogether that the
gotests the Sophists are teachers of virtue, and even denounces
cnstamron them with bitter contempt and wrath. But he main-
of the lead- tains that the leading and esteemed citizens of the
ing politi state do really teach it. Anytus however presently
teach virtue. breaks off in a tone of displeasure and menace towards
Sokrates himself.2 The conversation is then renewed with
Menon, and it is shown that the leading politicians cannot be
considered as teachers of virtue, any more than the Sophists.
There exist no teachers of it; and therefore we must conclude
that it is not teachable. °

The state of the discussion as it stands now, is represented by
two hypothetical syllogisms, as follows :—

1. If virtue is knowledge, it is teachable :

Confused |, But virtue is knowledge :

discassion. Therefore virtue is teachable.

acc αἰτίης 2. If virtue is knowledge, it is teachable :
virwue is But virtue is not teachable:

Therefore virtue is not knowledge.

The premisses of each of these two syllogisms contradict the con-
clusion of the other. Both cannot be true. If virtue is not
acquired by teaching,’and does not come by nature, how are there
any virtuous men ?

Sokrates continues his argument: The second premiss of the
Sokrates “rst syllogism—that virtue is knowledge—is true, but
modifies his not the whole truth. In proving it we assumed that

1 Plato, Menon, tes τικοί Will serve συμπαρακελεύσασϑαϊ γε
So histas, 8. 25, p. Mole express ly καὶ συνασκῆσαι.
Goclares Phat he does not lieve ὡς For a man to announce himself as a

ἐστι δικαιοσύνη διδακτόν: There is πὸ teacher of justice or Υυἱτίπϑθ, was an
τέχνη which can teach it, if a man be unpo pular and invidious pretension.
κακῶς πεφυκώς. But if a man be well- Iso is anxious to guard himself
disposed, then education in A t πολι- against such unpopularity.

KNOWLEDGE AND RIGHT OPINION. 241

CuHaP. XXILI.

there was nothing except knowledge which guided us premisses—

to useful and profitable consequences. But this as- isnot the
sumption will not hold. There is something else Mw open
besides knowledge, which also guides us to the same beat ae
useful results. That something is right opinion, which opinion will
0 tne same.

is quite different from knowledge. The man who
holds right opinions is just as profitable to us, and guides us quite
as well to right actions, as if he knew. Right opinions, so long
as they stay in the mind, are as good as knowledge, for the pur-
pose of guidance in practice. But the difference is, that they are
evanescent and will not stay in the mind: while knowledge is
permanent and ineffaceable. They are exalted into knowledge,
when bound in the mind by achain of causal reasoning :’ that
is, by the process of reminiscence, before described.

Virtue then (continues Sokrates)—that which constitutes the

virtuous character and the permanent, trustworthy,
useful guide—consists in knowledge. But there is
also right opinion, a sort of quast-knowledge, which
produces in practice effects as good as knowledge, only
that it is not deeply or permanently fixed in the
mind.? It is this right opinion, or quasi-knowledge,

Right opi-
nion cannot
be relied on
for stayi:

in the mind,
and can
never give
rational ex-
planations,

which esteemed and distinguished citizens possess, and oth
by means of which they render useful service to the
city. That they do not possess knowledge, is certain ;
for if they did, they would be able to teach it to
others, and especially to their own sons: and this it
has been shown that they cannot do.* They deliver
true opinions and predictions, and excellent advice, like prophets
and oracular ministers, by divine inspiration and possession,
without knowledge or wisdom of their own. They are divine
and inspired persons, but not wise or knowing. ‘

1 Plato, Menon, pp. 97 E08 A. καὶ
yap ai δόξαι ai ἀληθεῖς, ὅσον μὲν ἂν
χρόνον παραμένωσιν, καλόν τι χρῆμα
καὶ πάντα τἀγαθὰ ἐργάζονται" πολὺν δὲ

ρόνον οὖκ ἐθέλουσι παραμένειν, ἀλλὰ
ὕουσιν ἐκ τῆς ἧς τοῦ ἀνθρώ

που. ὥστε οὗ πολλοῦ afial εἰσιν, ἕως

ἂν τις αὐτὰς δήσῃ αἱτίας λο-

ισμῷ: τοῦτο δ᾽ ἐστὶν ἀνάμνησις,

ὡς ἐν τοῖς πρόσθεν ἡμῖν ὦμο αι. πολιτικοὺς οὐχ ἥκιστα τούτων φαῖμεν, ἂν

2 Plato, Menon, p. 99 A. ᾧᾷ δὲ ἄνθρω- θείους τε εἶναι καὶ ἐνθουσιάζειν, ἐπίπνους

2—16

wos ἡγεμών ἐστιν ἐπὶ τὸ OpOdy, δύο ταῦτα,
δόξα HS καὶ ἐπιστήμη.

8 Plato, Menon, p. 99 Β. Οὐκ ἄρα
σοφίᾳ τινὶ οὐδὲ σοφοὶ ὄντες οἱ τοιοῦτοι
ἄνδρες ἡγοῦντο ταῖς πόλεσιν, οἱ ἀμφὶ
Θεμιστοκλέα. . . . διὸ καὶ οὐχ οἷοί τε
ἄλλους ποιεῖν τοιούτους οἷοι αὐτοί εἰσιν,
ἅτε ov δι᾽ ἐπιστήμην ὄντες τοιοῦτοι.

4Plato, Menon, p. 99 D. καὶ τοὺς

243 MENON. CHap. XXIL

And thus (concludes Sokrates) the answer to the question
originally started by Menon—“ Whether virtue is
virtue that teachable?”—is as follows. Virtue in its highest
there is, is sense, in which it is equivalent to or coincident with
catedbyspe- knowledge, is teachable: but no such virtue exists.
tion from ‘That which exists in the most distinguished citizens
under the name of virtue,—or at least producing the
results of virtue in practice—is not teachable. Nor does it come
by nature, but by special inspiration from the Gods. The best
statesmen now existing cannot make any other person like them-
selves: if any one of them could do this, he would be, in compa-
rison with the rest, like a real thing compared with a shadow.}

Nevertheless the question which we have just discussed—
But what “‘ How virtue arises or is generated ?”—must be re-
Merkle in garded as secondary and dependent, not capable of
unknown. being clearly understood until the primary and princi-
pal question—“ What is virtue?”—has been investigated and
brought to a solution.

This last observation is repeated by Sokrates at the end—as it
Remarks on had been stated at the beginning, and in more than
Properorder O0@ place during the continuance—of the dialogue.
ing gxamin- In fact, Sokrates seems at first resolved to enforce the
ferenttopics natural and necessary priority of the latter question :
abby So but is induced by the solicitation of Menon to invert
krates. the order. 3

The propriety of the order marked out, but not pursued, by
Mischief of SOkrates is indisputable. Before you can enquire
debating a how virtue is generated or communicated, you must
secondary δα satisfied that you know what virtue is. You must
‘arestions, know the essence of the subject—or those predicates
fundamental which the word connotes (=the meaning of the term)
modare on before you investigate its accidents and antecedents. ¢
settled. Menon begins by being satisfied that he knows what

ὄντας καὶ κατεχομένους ἐκ τοῦ θεοῦ, ὅταν 2 Plato, Menon, p. 100 B.

κατορθῶσι A€yorres πολλὰ καὶ μεγάλα 8 Plato, Menon, p. 86.

“πράγματα, was ν εἰδότες ὧν λέγουσιν. «To use the phrase of Plato him-
1 , Menon, p. 100. self in the Euthyphron, p. 11 A, the

EXISTING VIRTUE—COMES UNTAUGHT. 943

CuaP. XXII.

virtue is: so satisfied, that he accounts it discreditable for a man
not to know: although he is made to answer like one who has
never thought upon the subject, and does not even understand
the question. Sokrates, on the other hand, not only confesses
that he does not himself know, but asserts that he never yet met
with a man who did know. One of tke most important lessons
in this, as in so many other Platonic dialogues, is the mischief of
proceeding to debate ulterior and secondary questions, without
having settled the fundamental words and notions: the false
persuasion of knowledge, common to almost every one, respecting
these familiar ethical and social ideas. Menon represents the
common state of mind. He begins with the false persuasion that
he as well as every one else knows what virtue is: and even when
he is proved to be ignorant, he still feels no interest in the funda-
mental enquiry, but turns aside to his original object of curiosity
—“ Whether virtue is teachable”. Nothing can be more repug-
nant to an ordinary mind than the thorough sifting of deep-
seated, long familiarised, notions—rd γὰρ ὀρθοῦσθαι γνώμαν,
ὀδυνᾷ.

The confession of Sokrates that neither he nor any other person
in his experience knows what virtue is—that it must Doctrine of

‘be made a subject of special and deliberate investiga- Sokrates in

tion—and that no man can know what justice, or any —esire of
other part of virtue is, unless he first knows what fobeuniver-
sally felt—

virtue as a whole is‘—are matters to be kept in mind PLT ece
also, as contrasting with other portions of the Platonic this is true.
dialogues, wherein virtue, justice, &c., are tacitly assumed (ac-
cording to the received habit) as matters known and understood.
The contmbutions which we obtain from the Menon towards
finding out the Platonic notion of virtue, are negative rather than
positive. The comments of Sokrates upon Menon’s first defini-
_ tion include the doctrine often announced in Plato—That no man
by nature desires suffering or evil ; every man desires good : if
οὐσία must be known before the πάθη

Compare Lachés, p. 190 B, and

are sought—«iwduveveas, ὦ Εὐθύφρον,
ἐρωτώμενος τὸ ὅσιον, 6, τί ποτ᾽ ἔστι,
τὴν μὲν οὐσίαν μοι αὐτοῦ οὐ βού-
λεσθαι δηλῶσαι, πάθος δέ τι περὶ
αὐτοῦ λέγειν, ὅ, τι πέπονθε τοῦτο τὸ
ὅσιον, φιλεῖσθαι ὑπὸ πάντων θεῶν" ὃ τι
δὲ ὄν, οὕπω εἶπες.

Gorgias, pp. 448 E, 462 C.

1 Plato, Menon, p. 79 B-C. τὴν γὰρ
δικαιοσύνην μόριον φὴς ἀρετῆς εἶναι καὶ
ἕκαστα τούτων. . .. ole τινα εἰδέναι
μόριον ἀρετῆς ὅ τι ἔστιν͵ αὐτὴν μὴ εἰδότα;
Οὐκ ἔμοιγε δοκεῖ.

244 | MENON. Cuar. XXII.

he seeks or pursues suffering or evil, he does so merely from error
or ignorance, mistaking it for good.' This is true, undoubtedly,
if we mean what is good or evil for himself: and if by good or
evil we mean (according to the doctrine enforced by Sokrates in
the Protagoras) the result of items of pleasure and pain, rightly
estimated and compared by the Measuring Reason. Every man
naturally desires pleasure, and the means of acquiring pleasure,
for himself: every man naturally shrinks from pain, or the
causes of pain, to himself: every one compares and measures the
items of each with more or less wisdom and impartiality. But
the proposition is not true, if we mean what is good or evil for
others : and if by good we mean (as Sokrates is made to declare
in the Gorgias) something apart from pleasure, and by evil some-
thing apart from pain (understanding pleasure and pain in their
largest sense). A man sometimes desires what is good for others,
sometimes what is evil for others, as the case may be. Plato’s
observation therefore cannot be admitted—That as to the wish or
desire, all men are alike : one man is no better than another. 3
The second portion of Plato’s theory, advanced to explain
what virtue is, presents nothing more satisfactory.

requires Virtue is useful or profitable: but neither health,
knowledge strength, beauty, wealth, power, &c., are profitable,
princi al it unless rightly used: nor are justice, moderation,

virtue, but courage, quick apprehension, good memory, &c., pro-
doesnot fitable, unless they are accompanied and guided by
knowledge, knowledge or prudence.? Now if by profitable we
have reference not to the individual agent alone, but
to other persons concerned also, the proposition is true, but not
instructive or distinct. For what is meant by right use? To
what ends are the gifts here enumerated to be turned, in order
to constitute right use? What again is meant by knowledge?
knowledge of what?‘ This is a question put by Sokrates in
many other dialogues, and necessary to be put here also. More-
over, knowledge is a term which requires to be determined, not
merely to some assignable object, but also in its general import,

1 Plato, Menon, p. 77. 3 Plato, Menon, pp. 87-88.

3 Plato, Menon, Ὁ. 78 B. τὸ μὲν 4See Republic, vi. p. 505 B, where
βούλεσθαι πᾶσιν ὑπάρχει, καὶ ταύτῃ γε this question is put, but not answered,
οὐδὲν ὁ ἕτερος τοῦ ἑτέρον βελτίων. respecting φρόνησις.

CuHap. XXIL. KNOWLEDGE—OF WHAT ? 245

no less than virtue. We shall come presently to an elaborate
dialogue (Theetétus) in which Plato makes many attempts to
determine knowledge generally, but ends in a confessed failure.
Knowledge must be knowledge possessed by some one, and must be
knowledge of something. What is it, that a man must know, in
order that his justice or courage may become profitable? Is it
pleasures and pains, with their causes, and the comparative mag-
nitude of each (as Sokrates declares in the Protagoras), in order
that he may contribute to diminish the sum of pains, increase
that of pleasures, to himself or to the society? If this be what
he is required to know, Plato should have said so—or if not,
what else—in order that the requirement of knowledge might
be made an intelligible condition.

Though the subject of direct debate in the Menon is the same
as that in the Protagoras (whether virtue be teach- Subject of
able ?) yet the manner of treating this subject is very Menon,
different in the two. One point of difference between that of the
the two has been just noticed. Another difference is, ἐλ τον νὰ
that whereas in Menon the teachability of virtue is of handling
assumed to be disproved, because there are no recog- 74 24038 |

nised teachers or learners of it—in the Protagoras this Cuection a
argument is produced by Sokrates, but is combated at and get
length (as we shall presently see) by a counter-argu- rid of it.
ment on the part of the Sophists, without any rejoinder from
Sokrates. Of this counter-argument no notice is taken in the
Menon : although, if it be well-founded, it would have served
Anytus no less than Protagoras, as a solution of the difficulties
raised by Sokrates. Such diversity of handling and argumenta-
tive fertility, are characteristic of the Platonic procedure. I have
already remarked, that the establishment of positive conclusions,
capable of being severed from their premisses, registered 1n the
memory, and used as principles for deduction—is foreign to the
spirit of these Dialogues of Search. To settle a question and
finish with it—to get rid of the debate, as if it were a trouble-
some temporary necessity—is not what Plato desires. His pur-
pose is, to provoke the spirit of enquiry—to stimulate responsive
efforts of the mind by a painful shock of exposed ignorance—and
to open before it a multiplicity of new roads with varied points
of view.

246 MENON. Cuap. XXII.

Nowhere in the Platonic writings is this provocative shock
more vividly illustrated than in the Menon, by the
simile of the electrical fish: a simile as striking as
keep upard that of the magnet in Ion.1 Nowhere, again, is the
spirit of true character of the Sokratic intellect more clearly

enunciated. “You complain, Menon, that I plunge
your mind into nothing but doubt, and puzzle, and conscious
ignorance. If I do this, it is only because my own mind is
already in that same condition? The only way out of it is,
through joint dialectical colloquy and search ; in which I invite
you to accompany me, though I do not know when or where it
will end.” And then, for the purpose of justifying as well as en-
couraging such prolonged search, Sokrates proceeds to unfold his
remarkable hypothesis—eternal pre-existence, boundless past ex-
perience, and omniscience, of the mind—identity of cognition
with recognition, dependent on reminiscence. “ Research or
enquiry (said some) is fruitless. You must search either for that
which you know, or for that which you do not know. The first
is superfluous—the second impossible : for if you do not know
what a thing is, how are you to be satisfied that the answer
which you find is that which you are looking for? How can you
distinguish a true solution from another which is untrue, but
plausible ?”

Here we find explicitly raised, for the first time, that difficulty
Great ques. Which embarrassed the different philosophical schools
tion dis’ in Greece for the subsequent three centuries—What is
amongthe the criterion of truth? Wherein consists the process
Grecian phi- A alled verification and proof, of that which is first pre-
criterion sented as an hypothesis? This was one of the great
Wherein problems debated between the Academics, the Stoics,
oooeeas με ° and the Sceptics, until the extinction of the schools of
verification? philosophy.

Anxiety of
Piato to

1 Plato, Menon, p. 80 A. vdp first to raise this question, I think
θαλασσία. Com what I have anid that by doing so they rendered service
above about the [on, ch. XVIL., p. 128. to the interests of philosophy. The
2 Plato, Menon, p. 80 D. question is among the first which ought
3 Sokrates here calls this problem an_ to be thoroughly debated and sifted, if
ἐριστικὸς λόγος. Stallbaum (in his we are to have a body of ‘“‘reasoned
legom. to the Menon, p. 14) de- truth” called philosophy. _
scribes it as a “ questiunculam, haud I dissent from the opinion of Stall-
dubie e sophistarum disciplin&4 ar- baum (p. wr though it is adopted both
reptam” the Sophists were the by er (Ueber Platon, p. 185) and

Crap. XXII.

PRE-NATAL EXPERIENCE AND REMINISCENCE.

247

Not one of these schools avas satisfied with the very peculiar

answer which the Platonic Sokrates here gives to the
question. When truth is presented to us (he inti-
mates), we recognise it 88 an old friend after a long Fy
absence. We know it by reason of its conformity to
our antecedent, pre-natal, experience (in the Phedon, mad
such pre-natal experience is restricted to commerce
with the substantial, intelligible, Ideas, which are not
mentioned in the Menon): the soul or mind is im-
mortal, has gone through an indefinite succession of

None of the

temporary lives prior to the present, and will go through an
indefinite succession of temporary lives posterior to the present—
“longs, canitis si cognita, vite Mors media est”. The mind has
thus become omniscient, having seen, heard, and learnt every
thing, both on earth and in Hades: but such knowledge exists as
a confused and unavailable mass, having been buried and for-
gotten on the commencement of its actual life.

Since all nature is in universal kindred, communion, or inter-
dependence, that which we hear or see here, recalls to the
memory, by association, portions of our prior forgotten omni-

by Steinhart (Einleitung zum Meno
δ. 123), that the Menon was com

y Plato during the lifetime of Sokrates.
Schleiermacher (Kinleitung zum Gor-
gias, Ὁ. 22; Einleitung zum Menon,
BP. 329-330), Ueberweg (Aechth. Plat.
Schr. p. 226), and K. F. Hermann, on
the er hand, regard the Menon as
composed after the death of Sokrates,
and on this ,point I agree with them,
though whether it was composed not
long after that event (as K. F. Her-
mann thinks) or thirteen years after it
(as Schleiermacher thinks), I see no
sufficient grounds for deciding. I in-
cline to the belief that its composition
is considerably later than Hermann
supposes ; the mention of the Theban
Ismenias is one among the reasons
rendering such later origin probable.
Plato probably borrowed from the
Xenophontic Anabasis the name,
country, and social position of Menon,
who may have received teaching from
Gorgias, as we know that Proxenus
did, Xen. Anab. ii. 6, 16. The reader
can com the Einleitung of Schleier-
macher (in which he professes to prove

that the Menon is a corollary to the

Thestétus and Gorgias, and an im-

mediate antecedent to the Euthydémus,

—that it solves the riddle of the Pro-
oras—and that it

Kinlei of Steinhart (p. 120 seq.),
who contests all these positions,
saying that the Menon decidedly

later than the Euthydémus, and de-
cidedly earlier than the Thesetatus,
Gorgias, and Phedrus; with the
opinions of Stallbaum and Hermann,
who recognise an order different from
that either of Steinhart or Schleier-.
macher; and with that of Ast, who
rejects the Menon altogether as un-
worthy of Plato. Every one of these
dissentient critics has something to say
for his Soerent) while none of ating
my ju ent) can e out an

like a conclusive case. The mistake
consists in assuming that there must
have been a peremptory order and in-
tentional interdependence among the
Platonic Dialogues, and next in t

to show by internal evidence what tha

order was.

248

science.?

MENON.

Cuap. XXJT.

It is in this recall or reminiscence that search, learn-

ing, acquisition of knowledge, consists. Teaching and learning
are words without meaning: the only process really instructive
is that of dialectic debate, which, if indefatigably prosecuted,
will dig out the omniscience buried within.? So vast is the
theory generated in Plato’s mind, by his worship of dialectic,

1 The doctrine of communion or in-
terdependence pe all Nature
with one continuous cosmical soul
penetrating everywhere, will be found
set forth in the kosmology of the
Timzus, pp. 87-42-48. It was held,
with various modifications, both by the

Pythagoreans and the Stoics. m-
pare Cicero, Divinat. ii. 14-15; Vir-
gil, Aineid vi. 715 seq δ Georgic.

ir. adv. Mathem.

).
mind by virtue of its interdependence
or kindred with all nature, includes a
confused omniscience, is also a Leib-
nitzian view. ‘‘Car comme tout est
plein (ce qui rend toute la matiére liée)
et comme le plein tout mouve-
ment fait quelqu’ effet sur les corps
& mesure de la distance, de
sorte que chaque corps est affecté
non seulement par ceux qui le tou-
chent, et se ressent en quelque fagon
de tout ce qui leur arrive—mais aussi
par leur moyen se ressent de ceux qui
achent les premiers dont il est touché
immédiatement. 1] s’ensuit que cette
communication va 4 quelque distance
que ce soit. Et par consequent tout
se ressent de tout ce qui se fait
dans l’Univers: tellement que celui,
qui voit tout, pourroit lire dans chacun
ce quise fait partout et méme ce qui
sest fait et se fera, en remarquant
dans le présent ce qui est éloigné tant
selon les temps que selon les lieux:
σύμπνοια πάντα, disoit Hippocrate.
Mais une 4me ne peut lire en elle
méme que ce qui y est représenté dis-
tinctement: elle ne sauroit develop-
per tout d’un coup ses régies, car elles

vont ἃ l'infini. Ainsi quoique chaque
monade créée représente tout l’Univers,
elle représente plus distinctement le
corps qui lui est rticulitrement
affecté, et dont elle fait l’Entéléchie.
Et comme ce corps exprime tout I’ Uni-
vers par la connexion de toute la
matiére dans le plein, l’'ame représente
aussi tout l'Univers en by ntant Red
co ui lui a ient d'une mani
partic itre” Weibnitz, Monadologie,
sect. 61-62, No. 88, p. 710; Opp. Leibn.
ed. Erdmann

Again, Leibnitz, in another Disser-
tation :—‘‘ Comme ἃ cause de la pléni-
tude du monde tout est lié, et ue
corps agit sur chaque autre corps, plus
ou moins, selon la di ce, et en est
affecté par la réaction—il s’ensuit que
chaque monade est un miroir vivant,
ou doué d'action interne, représentatif
de l’Univers, suivant son point de vue,
et aussi réglé que Univers méme”
(Principes de la Nature et de la Grace,

Erdmann ;

R 714, ; also Systéme
ouveat, p. 128, a. 36).

Leibnitz expresses more than once
how much his own metaphysical views
a. with those of Plato. Lettre &
PP. 723-725. He ex-
ef in the p istence
of the soul: ‘‘ Tout ce que je crois

Ame de tout
animal a préexisté, e
corps organique : qui enfin, par beau-
coup de c emens, involutions, et
sont” (Lettre ἃ Μ' Bourguet, ρὲ ΤῈ).
sent” Θ - Bourguet, p. 781
And in the Platonic doctrine of remit:
niscence to a certain poirt: “Dya
uelque chose de solide dans ce que
it ton de la réminiscence” (p. 1387,
b. 10). Also Leibnitz’s Nouveaux Essais
sur I’'Entendement Humain, p. 196,
b. 28; and Epistol. ad Hanschium, p.
446, a. 12.
See the elaborate account of the
philosophy of Leibnitz by Dr. Kuno
ischer—Geschichte der neueren Phi-
losophie, vol. ii. pp. 226-232.
. Ν sont Menon, p. 81 Ὁ. ἐάν τις
ἀνόρειος ἢ, καὶ μὴ αποκάμνῃ (ζητῶν.
Compare also p. 86 Β.

Cuap. XXIL LEARNING-—REMINISCENCE. 219

respecting that process of -search to which more than half of his
dialogues are devoted.

In various other dialogues of Plato, the same hypothesis is
found repeated. His conception of the immortality

Plato's view
of the soul or mind, includes pre-existence as well as of the im-

. . mortality of
post-existence: a perpetual succession of temporary the soul—
lives, each in a distinct body, each terminated by difference
death, and each followed by renewed life for a time Menon,
in another body. In fact, the pre-existence of the and Phe-

don.

mind formed the most important part of Plato’s
theory about immortality: for he employed it as the means of
explaining how the mind became possessed of general notions.
As the doctrine is stated in the Menon, it is made applicable to
all minds (instead of being confined, as in Phedrus, Phsedon, and
elsewhere, to a few highly gifted minds, and to commerce with
the intelligible substances called Ideas). This appears from the
person chosen to illustrate the alleged possibility of stimulating
artificial reminiscence : that person is an unlettered youth, taken
at hazard from among the numerous slaves of Menon.}

It is true, indeed (as Schleiermacher observes), that the ques-
tions put by Sokrates to this youth are in great pro-

portion leading questions, suggesting their own an- Plato. that
swers. They would not have served their purpose roy truth
unless they had been such. The illustration here elicited by_
furnished, of the Sokratic interrogatory process, is mination

highly interesting, and his theory is in a great degree Out οἵ the,
true.” Not ali learning, but an important part of mind—how

learning, consists in reminiscence — not indeed of

1 Plato, Menon, pp. 82 A, 85 E.

τωνικόν. Εἰ προστίθεμεν τὸ ἕλλειπον

πρόσκάλεσον τῶν πολλῶν ἀκολούθων
τοντωνὶ τῶν σαντοῦ ἕνα, ὄντινα βούλει,
ἵνα ἐν τούτῳ σοι ἐπιδείξωμαι. Stall-
baum says that this allusion to the
numerous slaves in attendance is in-
tended to illustrate conspicuously the
wealth and nobility of Menon. In
my judgment, it is rather intended to
illustrate the operation of pure acci-

dent—the perfect rdinary character
of the mind work spore one among
many. which you please”.

lutarch ent. Περὶ ψυχῆς).

Εἰ ἀφ᾽ érépov ἕτερον ἐννοοῦμεν; οὐκ ἄν
εἰ μὴ npclwowart, Td ἐπιχείρημα Πλα-

τοῖς αἰσθητοῖς j—xat αὐτὸ Πλατωνικόν.
Plutarch, in the same fragment,
indicates some of the objections made
by Bion and Straton against the doc-
trine of ἀνάμνησις. How (they asked)
does it happen that this reminiscence

brings up often what is false or absurd ?
(asked If such reminiscence
exists (asked Straton) how comes it

that we require demonstrations to con-
duct us to knowledge? and how is it
that no man can play on the flute or
the harp without practice?

Ὅτι Βίων ,ἧ πόρει περὶ τοῦ Ψεύδους, εἰ
καὶ αὐτὸ κατ᾿ ἀνάμνησιν, ὡς τὸ ἐναντίον

950 MESON. πᾶν. XXIZ.

acquisitions made in an antecedent life, but of past experience
and judgments in this life. Of such experience and judgments
every one has travelled through a large course; which has
disappeared from his memory, yet not irrevocably. Portions of
it may be revived, if new matter be presented to the mind, fitted
to excite the recollection of them by the laws of association. By
suitable interrogations, a teacher may thus recall to the memory
of his pupils many facts and judgments which have been hitherto
forgotten: he may bring into juxtaposition those which have
never before been put together in the mind: and he may thus
make them elicit instructive comparisons and inferencen. He
may provoke the pupils to strike out new results for themselves,
or to follow, by means of their own stock of knowledge, in the
path suggested by the questions. He may farther lead them to
perceive the fallacy of erroneous analogies which at first pre-
sented themselves as plausible ; and to become painfully sensible
of embarrassment and perplexing ignorance, before he puts those
questions which indicate the way of escape from it. Upon the
necessity of producing such painful consciousness of ignorance
Plato insists emphatically, as is his custom.’

,H οὔ; καὶ rl ἢ ἀλογία; “Ore Στράτων
δ et ἔστιν ἀνάμνησις, πῶς ἄνεν

ποδείξεων οὐ γιγνόμεθα ἐπιστήμονες ;
wat δὲ οὐδεὶς αὐλητὴς ἢ κιθαριστὴς γέγο.

it; but he does not seem (so as I
can understand this brief allusion) to
seize exactly Plato’s meaning. This is
the remark of the Scholiast on Aristotle :

ἴα a rhetorical amplification of
his doctrine—wraca μάθησις, ἀνάμνησις
—in which he enters fully into the
t of the Menon and the Phedon—
τοδίδακτόν τι χρῆμα ἡ it, ψυχῆς
εὕρεσις, αὐτογενῆς τις οὖσα, καὶ αὑτο-
φνὴς, καὶ ξύμφντος, τί ἄλλο ἔστιν ἢ δόξαι
ἀληθεῖς ἐγειρόμεναι, ὧν τῇ ἐπεγέρσει τε
καὶ ξυντάξει ἐπιστήμη ὄνομα; (6. 6).
Compare also Cicero, Tusc. D. i. 24.
The doctrine has sr ian ν᾿ io theme
for v e poetry : e
CraseLetic Philos hise of Boethius—
the piece which ends with
*‘ Ac si Platonis Musa personat verum,
Quod quisque discit, immemor re-
cordatur "—
and in μένη Tonpetting Our birth is but
a sleep and a fo ἣ
On the other ἃ Aristotle alludes
also to the same doctrine and criticises

is handied by Plato in the Menon and
Pheedon, and by Aristotle in the valu-
able little tract—Ilepi μνήνης καὶ ἀνα-
ἥσεως (p. 451, Ὁ. Aristotle has

is own way of replying to the diffi-
culty raised in the question of Menon,
and tries to show that sometimes we
know in one sense and do ποὶ know in
another. See Aristotel. Anal. Prior.,
ii. p. 67, a. 22; Anal. Poster. i p. 71,
a. 27; and the Scholia on the former

passage, p. 193, b. 21, ed. Brandis.

Sir Wiliam Hamilton. in one of the
Appendixes to his edition of Reid’s

orks (Append. D. p. 890 .), has
given a learned and valuable transla-
tion and illustration of the treatise of
Aristotle Περὶ ᾿Αναμνήσεως. I note,
however, with some surprise, that while -
collecting many interesting comments
from writers who lived after Aristotle
he has not adverted to what was said
upon this same subject by Plato, before

Cuar. XXIL EVOCATION OF LATENT KNOWLEDGE. 251

Plato does not intend here to distinguish (as many modern
writers distinguish) geometry from other sciences, as if pisto's doc-
geometry were known οἱ prwrt, and other sciences trine about

. ΜΝ : ἃ priori rea-
known 4 posteriori or from experience. He does not sonings—
suppose that geometrical truths are such that no Pifferent
man can possibly believe the contrary of them; or modern
that they are different in this respect from the truths doctrine.
of any other science. He here maintains that all the sciences lie
equally in the untaught mind,’ but buried, forgotten, and confused :
so as to require the skill of the questioner not merely to recall them
into consciousness, but to disentangle truth from error. Far from
supposing that the untaught mind has a natural tendency to
answer correctly geometrical questions, he treats erroneous an-
swers as springing up more naturally than true answers, and as
requiring a process of painful exposure before the mind can be
put upon the right track. The questioner, without possessing
any knowledge himself, (so Plato thinks,) can nevertheless exercise
an influence at once stimulating, corrective, and directive. He
stimulates the action of the associative process, to call up facts,
comparisons, and analogies, bearing on the question: he arrests
the respondent on a wrong answer, creating within him a painful
sense of ignorance and embarrassment: he directs him by his
subsequent questions into the path of right answers. His ob-
stetric aid (to use the simile in Plato’s Theztétus), though pre-
supposing the pregnancy of the respondent mind, is indispensable
both to forward the childbirth, and to throw away any offspring
which may happen to be deformed. In the Theetétus, the main
stress is laid on that part of the dialogue which is performed by
the questioner: in the Menon, upon the latent competence and
large dead stock of an untaught respondent.

The mind of the slave questioned by Sokrates is discovered to
be pregnant. Though he has received no teaching from any pro-
fessed geometer, he is nevertheless found competent, when sub-
jected to a skilful interrogatory, to arrive at last, through a series
of mistakes, at correct answers, determining certain simple pro-

Aristotle. It was the more to be ex- 1 Plato, Menon, Ὁ. 85 E. οὗτος

ted that he would do this, since he yap (the untaught slave) ποιήσει περὶ
fasists so emphatically upon the com- πάσης γεωμετρίας ταὐτὰ ταῦτα, καὶ τὼν
plete originality of Aristotle. ἄλλων μαθημάτων ἁπάντων.

252 MENON. Cuae. XXIL

blems of geometry. He knows nothing about geometry : never-
theless there exist in his mind true opinions respecting that which
he does not know. These opinions are “called up like a dream”
by the interrogatories : which, if repeated and diversified, convert
the opinions into knowledge, taken up by the respondent out of
himself.! The opinions are inherited from an antecedent life and
born with him, since they have never been taught to him during
this life.

It is thus that Plato applies to philosophical theory the doc-
Plato's trine (borrowed from the Pythagoreans) of pre-natal
theoryabout experience and cognitions : which he considers, not as

rience, | inherent appurtenances of the mind, but as acquisi-

etookno tions made by the mind during various antecedent
ascertain lives. These ideas (Plato argues) cannot have been
andmeasure acquired during the present life, because the youth
post-natal has received no special teaching in geometry. But
Plato here takes no account of the multiplicity and
diversity of experiences gone through, comparisons made, and
acquirements lodged, in the mind of a youthful adult however
unlettered. He recognises no acquisition of knowledge except
through special teaching. So, too, in the Protagoras, we shall
find him putting into the mouth of Sokrates the doctrine—That
virtue is not taught and cannot be taught, because there were no
special masters or times of teaching. But in that dialogue we ©
shall also see Plato furnishing an elaborate reply to this doctrine
in the speech of Protagoras ; who indicates the multifarious and
powerful influences which are perpetually operative, even without
special professors, in creating and enforcing ethical sentiment-
If Plato had taken pains to study the early life of the untaught
slave, with its stock of facts, judgments, comparisons, and in-
ferences suggested by analogy, &o., he might easily have found
enough to explain the competence of the slave to answer the
questions appearing in the dialogue. And even if enough could
not have been found, to afford a direct and specific explanation—

experience.

1 Plato, Menon, p. 86. τῷ οὐκ εἰδότι οἶσθ᾽ ὅτι τελευτῶν οὐδενὸς ἧττον ἀκριβῶς
ἄρα περὶ ὧν ἂν μὴ εἰδῇ ἔνεισιν ἀληθεῖς ἐπιστήσεται περὶ αὐτῶν. . .
δόξαι. . . . καὶ νὺν μέν ye αὐτῷ οὐδενὸς διδάξαντος ἀλλ᾽ ἐρωτήσαντος
ὥσπερ ὄναρ ἄρτι ἀνακεκίνηνται αἱ ἐπιστήσεται, ἀναλαβὼν αὐτὸς ἐξ αὑτοῦ
δόξαι αὗται - εἰ δὲ αὐτόν τις “ἀνερήσεται τὴν ἐπιστήμην ;
πολλάκις τὰ αὐτὰ ταῦτα καὶ πολλαχῆ,

Crap. XXII. CAUSAL REASONINGS. 253

we must remember that only a very small proportion of the long
series of mental phenomena realised in the infant, the child, the
youth, ever comes to be remembered or recorded. To assume
that the large unknown remainder would be insufficient, if
known, to afford the explanation sought, is neither philosophical
nor reasonable. This is assumed in every form of the doctrine of
innate ideas: and assumed by Plato here without even trying
any explanation to dispense with the hypothesis: simply because
the youth interrogated had never received any special instruction
in geometry.

I have already observed, that though great stress is laid in this
dialogue upon the doctrine of opinions and knowledge inherited
from an antecedent life—upon the distinction between true
opinion and knowledge—and upon the identity of the process
of learning with reminiscence—yet nothing is said itt. or
about universal Ideas or Forms, so much dwelt upon nothing is
in other dialogues. In the Phzdrus and Phedon, it sald in the
is with these universal Ideas that the mind is spout the
affirmed to have had communion during its prior Ideas or
existence, as contrasted with the particulars of sense ¥°™*
apprehended during the present life: while in the Menon, the
difference pointed out between true opinions and knowledge is
something much less marked and decisive. Both the one and
the other are said to be, not acquired during this life, but in-
herited from antecedent life: to be innate, yet unperceived—
revived by way of reminiscence and interrogation. True opinions
are affirmed to render as much service as knowledge, in reference
to practice. There is only this distinction between them—that
true opinions are transient, and will not remain in the mind until
they are bound in it by causal reasoning, or become knowledge.

What Plato meant by this “causal reasoning, or computation
of. cause,” is not clearly explained. But he affirms Whe
very unequivocally, first, that the distinction between meant by
true opinion and knowledge is one of the few things soning his
of which he feels assured 1—next, with somewhat distinction

less confidence, that the distinction consists only in knowledge

1 Plato, Menon, p. 98 B. ὅτι δέ εἴπερ τι ἄλλο φαίην ἂν εἰδέναι, ὁλέίγα
ἐστί τι ἀλλοῖον ὀρθὴ δόξα καὶ ἐπιστήμη, δ᾽ ἂν φαίην, ὃν δ᾽ οὖν καὶ τοῦτο
ov wavy μοι δοκῶ τοῦτο εἰκάζειν" ἀλλ’ ἐκείνων θείην ἂν ὧν οἶδα.

254 MENON. CuHap. XXII

andright the greater security which knowledge affords for
opinion. =_— permanent in-dwelling in the mind. This appears
substantially the same distinction as. what is laid down in other
words towards the close of the dialogue—That those, who have
only true opinions and not knowledge, judge rightly without
knowing how or why; by an aptitude not their own but supplied
ἴο them from without for the occasion, in the nature of inspira-
tion or prophetic estrus. Hence they are unable to teach others,
or to transfer this occasional inspiration to any one else. They
cannot give account of what they affect to know, nor answer
ecrutinizing questions to test it. This power of answering and
administering cross-examination, is Plato's characteristic test of
real knowledge—as I have already observed in my sixth chapter.
To translate the views of Plato into analogous views of a
This dis. | modern philosopher, we may say—That right opinion,
ΡΟΝ Τὰ as contrasted with knowledge, is a di
with mo- and acute empirical judgment: inferring only from
sophical Old particulars to new particulars (without the inter-
views. mediate help and guarantee of general propositions
distinctly enunciated and interpreted), but selecting for every
new case the appropriate analogies out of the past, with which it
ought to be compared. Many persons judge in this manner
fairly well, and some with extreme success. But let them be
ever 80 successful in practice, they proceed without any conscious
method ; they are unable to communicate the grounds of their
inferences to others: and when they are right, it is only by
haphazard—that is (to use Plato’s language), through special
inspiration vouchsafed to them by the Gods. But when they
ascend to knowledge, and come to judge scientifically, they then
distribute these particular facts into classes—note the constant
sequences as distinguished from the occasional—and draw their
inferences in every new case according to such general laws or
uniformities of antecedent and consequent. Such uniform and
unconditional antecedents are the only causes of which we have
cognizance. They admit of being described in the language
which Plato here uses (αἰτίας λογισμῷ), and they also serve as
reasons for justifying or explaining our inferences to others.}

1 We have seen that in the Menon nothing but ἀνάμνησις. The doctrine
Plato denies all διδαχή, and recognises of the Timeus (p. 51 D-E) is very dif-

Cuap. XXII.

ANYTUS, HATER OF THE SOPHISTS.

255

The manner in which Anytus, the accuser of Sokrates before

the Dikastery, is introduced

deserves notice. The questions are put to him by
Sokrates—Is virtue teachable? How is Menon to

learn virtue, and from whom?

as he would do if he wished to learn medicine or
music: to put himself under some paid professional

into this dialogue, assanisesta-
tion of Any-
tus—intense
antipathy to
the Sophists
and to philo-

h -
ΡῈ gene

Ought he not to do

man as teacher?” Anytus answers these questions in the afirma-
tive: but asks, where such professional teachers of virtue are to be
found. ‘There are the Sophists,” replies Sokrates. Upon this
Anytus breaks out into a burst of angry invective against the
Sophists ; denouncing them as corruptors of youth, whom none
but a madman would consult, and who ought to be banished by

public authority.
ferent. He there lays especial stress
on the distinction between διδαχὴ

and weése—the first belonging
ἐπιστήμη, the second to δόξα. Also in
Gorgias, 454, and in Republic, v. pp.
477-479, about δόξα and ἐπιστήμη.
In those dialogues the distinction be.
tween the two is presented as marked
and fundamental, as if δόξα alone was
fallible and ἐπιστήμη infallible. In
the Menon the distinction appears as
important, but not fundamental; the
Platonic Ideas or Universals being not
recognised as constitu asubstantive
world by themselves. this respect
the Menon is nearer to the truth in
describing the difference between ὀρθὴ
δόξα and ἐπιστήμη. Mr. John Stua
Mill (in the chapter of his System of
Logic wherein the true theory of theSyl-
logism is for the first time expounded
has clearly explained what that differ-
ence amounts to. All our inferences
are from particulars, sometimes #6 new
particulars directly and at once (δόξα),
sometimes to generals in the first
instance, and through them & new
particulars ; which latter, or scientific
process, is highly valuable as a security
or correctness (ἐπιστήμηλ. ‘Not only”
(says Mr. Mill) “‘ may we reason from
rticulars to particulars without pass-
ng through generals, but we erpetually
dosoreason. All our earliest inferences
are of this nature. From the first dawn
, of intelligence we draw inferences, but

years elapse before we learn the use of
general e. We are constantly
reasoning from ourselves to other

le, or from one person to another,
Fithout giving ourselves the trouble
to erect our observations into general
maxims of human or external nature.
If we have an extensive experience
and retain its impressions strongly, we
may acquire in this manner a very
considerable power of accurate judg-
ment, which we may be utterly incap-
able of justifying or of communicatin
to others. Among the higher order o
practical intellects, there have been
many of whom it was remarked how
admirably they suited their means to
their ends, without being able to give
any sufficient account of what they did;
and applied, or seemed to apply, re-.
condite principles which they were
wholly unable to state. This is a
natural consequence of having a mind

) stored with appropriate particulars,

and having been accustomed to reason
at once from these to fresh particulars,
without practising the habit of statin
to one’s self or others the correspond-
ing general propositions. The cases of
men of talent performing wonderful
things they know not how, are ex-
amples of the rudest and most spon-
taneous forms of the operations of
superior minds. Itis a defect in them,
and often a source of errors, not to
have generalised as they went on; but
generalisation, though a help, the most

portant indeed of all helps, is not an
essential” (Mill, Syst. of ic, Book
II. ch. iii.). Compare the firs chapter
of the Metaphysica of Aristotle, p. 980,
a. 15, Ὁ. 7.

256 MENON. Cuap. XXII.

Why are you so bitter against the Sophists? asks Sokrates.
Have any of them ever injured you? Anyt.—No; never: I
have never been in the company of any one of them, nor would I
ever suffer any of my family to be so. Sokr.—Then you have no
experience whatever about the Sophists? Anyt.—None: and I
hope that I never may have. Sokr.—How then can you know
about this matter, how far it is good or bad, if you have no
experience whatever about it? Anyt—Easily. I know what
sort of men the Sophists are, whether I have experience of them
or not. Sokr.—Perhaps you are a prophet, Anytus: for how else
you can know about them, I do not understand, even on your
own statement.!

Anytus then declares, that the persons from whom Menor
ought to learn virtue are the leading practical politicians ; and
that any one of them can teach it. But Sokrates puts a series of
questions, showing that the leading Athenian politicians, Themis-
toklés, Periklés, &c., have not been able to teach virtue even to
their own sons: ὦ fortiori, therefore, they cannot teach it to any
one else. Anytus treats this series of questions as
and calumnious towards the great men of Athens. He breaks
off the conversation abruptly, with an angry warning to So-
krates to be cautious about his language, and to take care of his
own safety.

The dialogue is then prosecuted and finished between Sokrates
and Menon: and at the close of it, Sokrates says—“Talk to
Anytus, and communicate to him that persuasion which you
have yourself contracted,? in order that he may be more mildly
disposed: for, if you persuade him, you will do some good to
the Athenians as well as to himself.”

The enemy and accuser of Sokrates is here depicted as the
The enemy bitter enemy of the Sophists also. And Plato takes
of Sokrates pains to exhibit the enmity of Anytus to the Sophists
enemyofthe as founded on no facts or experience. Without
*Pitint having seen or ascertained anything about them,
statesmen. Anytus hates them as violently as if he had sustained
from them some personal injury; a sentiment which many

1 Plato, Menon, Ὁ. 92. . τόνδε “Avutov, iva πρᾳότερος ὡς ἐὰν
2 Plato, Menon, ad fin. σὺ δὲ ταῦτα πείσῃς τοῦτον, é ἔστιν 6, τι καὶ te Δὰν
ἅπερ αὐτὸς πέπεισαι, πεῖθε καὶ τὸν ξένον ὀνήσεις.

Caap, XXII THE SOPHISTS AND SOKRATES. 957

Platonic critics and many historians of philosophy have inherited
from him.1 Whether the corruption which these Sophists were
accused of bringing about in the minds of youth, was intentional
or not intentional on their part—how such corruption could
have been perpetually continued, while at the same time the
eminent Sophists enjoyed long and unabated esteem from the
youth themselves and from their relatives—are difficulties which
Anytus does not attempt to explain, though they are started
‘here hy Sokrates. Indeed we find the same topics employed by
Sokrates himself, in his defence before the Dikasts against the
same charge? Anytus has confidence in no one except the
practical statesmen: and when a question is raised about their
power to impart their own excellence to others, he presently
takes offence against Sokrates also. The same causes which have
determined his furious antipathy against the Sophists, make him
ready to transfer the like antipathy to Sokrates. He is a man of
plain sense, practical habits, and conservative patriotism—who
worships what he finds accredited as virtue, and dislikes the
talkers and theorisers about virtue in general: whether they
debated in subtle interrogation and dialectics, like Sokrates—or
lectured in eloquent continuous discourse, iike Protagoras. , He
accuses the Sophists, in this dialogue, of corrupting the youth ;
just as he and Melétus, before the Dikastery, accused Sokrates of
the same offence. He understands the use of words, to discuss
actual business before the assembly or dikastery ; but he hates dis-
course on the generalities of ethics or philosophy. He is essen-
tially μισόλογος. The point which he condemns in the Sophists,
is that which they have in common with Sokrates.

In many of the Platonic dialogues we have the antithesis
between Sokrates and the Sophists brought out, as to qe Menon
the different point of view from which the one and _ brings for-

1Upon the bitter antipathy here persons often do what is here imputed
expressed by Anytus against the them. But Steinhart might have
Sophists, whom nevertheless he admits found a still closer parallel with Any-
that he does not at all know, Steinhart tus, in his own criticisms, and in those
remarks as follows:—‘‘Geradesohaben of many other Platonic critics on the
zu allen Zeiten Orthodoxe und Fanati- Sophists; the same expressions of
ker aller Arten tiber ihre Gegner ab- bitterness and severity, with the same
geurtheilt, ohne sie zu kennen oder slender knowledge of the persons upon
‘auch at kennen lernen zu wollen” whom they bear. Sok 28 A. 88 D
(Einl zam Menon, not. 15, Ὁ. » Apol. r. pp. ’ ᾿

Certainly orthodox and ΑΝ 84 B.

2—17

258 MENON. Cuap. XXII.

the other approached ethical questions. But in this
portion of the Menon, we find exhibited the feature
between οὗ analogy between them, in which both one and the
aad tes, other stood upon ground obnoxious to the merely prac-
in which [108] politicians. Far from regarding hatred against.
disliked by he Sophists as a mark of virtue in Anytus, Sokrates
the prac- deprecates it as unwarranted and as menacing to philo-
men. sophy in all her manifestations. The last declaration
ascribed to Anytus, coupled with the last speech of Sokrates in
the dialogue, show us that Plato conceives the anti-Sophistic
antipathy as being anti-Sokratic also, in its natural consequences.
That Sokrates was in common parlance a Sophist, disliked by a
large portion of the general public, and ridiculed by Aristophanes,
on the same grounds as those whom Plato calls Sophists—is a
point which I have noticed elsewhere.

Crap. XXIII. PROTAGORAS. 259

CHAPTER XXIII.
PROTAGORAS.

Tue dialogue called Protagoras presents a larger assemblage of
varied and celebrated characters, with more of dra- g.onicar
inatic winding, and more frequent breaks and re- rangement
sumptions in the conversation, than any dialogue of ages of the
Plato—not excepting even Symposion and Republic, “#!osve-
It exhibits Sokrates in controversy with the celebrated Sophist
Protagoras, in the presence of a distinguished society, most of
whom take occasional part in the dialogue. This controversy is
preceded by a striking canversation between Sokrates and Hippo-
krates—a youth of distinguished family, eager to profit by the
instructions of Protagoras. The two Sophists Prodikus and
Hippias, together with Kallias, Kritias, Alkibiades, Eryximachus,
Pheedrus, Pausanias, Agathon, the two sons of Periklés (Paralus
and Xanthippus), Charmides, son of Glaukon, Antimerus of
Mende, a promising pupil of Protagoras, who is in training for
the profession of a Sophist—these and others are all present δὲ
the meeting, which is held in the house of Kallias.1 Sokrates
himself recounts the whole—both liis conversation with Hippo-
krates and that with Protagoras—to a nameless friend.

This dialogue enters upon a larger and more comprehensive
ethical theory than anything in the others hitherto noticed.
But it contains also a great deal in which we hardly recognise,
or at least cannot verify, any distinct purpose, either of search
or exposition. Much of it seems to be composed with a literary
or poetical view, to enhance the charm or interest of the compo-
sition. The personal characteristics of each speaker—the intel-

+ Plato, Protag. p. 315.

260 PROTAGORAS. Cuae. XXIII!

lectual peculiarities of Prodikus and Hippias—the ardent parti-
sanship of Alkibiades—are brought out as ina real drama. But
the great and marked antithesis is that between the Sophist
Protagoras and Sokrates—the Hektor and Ajax of the piece :
who stand forward in single combat, exchange some serious
blows, yet ultimately part as friends.

An introduction of some length impresses upon us forcibly the
Introduc- Celebrity of the Great Sophist, and the earnest interest
tion. Kager- excited by his visit to Athens. Hippokrates, a young

outhful | man of noble family and eager aspirations for improve-
kratesto ment, having just learnt the arrival of Protagoras,
become _ comes to the house of Sokrates and awakens him
with Pro- before daylight, entreating that Sokrates will intro-
tagoras. = duce him to the new-comer. He is ready to give all
that he possesses in order that he may become wise like Prota-
goras.1 While they are awaiting a suitable hour for such intro-
duction, Sokrates puts a series of questions to test the force of
Hippokrates.?

Sokr.—You are now intending to visit Protagoras, and to pay

Sokrates | him for something to be done for you—tell me what.

πόνων manner of man it is that you are going to visit—and
krates asto what manner of man do you wish to become? If you
and expec: were going in like manner to pay a fee for instruction
tations to your namesake Hippokrates of Kos, you would tell
tagoras. me that you were going to him as toa physician—and
that you wished to qualify yourself for becoming a physician.
If you were addressing yourself with the like view to Pheidias
or Polykleitus, you would go to them as to sculptors, and for the
purpose of becoming yourself a sculptor. Now then that we are
to go in all this hurry to Protagoras, tell me who he is and what
title he bears, as we called Pheidias a sculptor? Htpp.—They
call him a Sophist.* Sokr.—We are going to pay him then asa
Sophist ? Hupp.—Certainly. Sokr—And what are you to be-
come by going tohim? Htpp.—Why, judging from the preced-
ing analogies, I am to become ἃ Sophist. Sokr.—But would not
you be ashamed of presenting yourself to the Grecian public as a

1 Plato, ποίας, pp. 810-311 A. ῥώμης διεσκόπουν αὐτὸν καὶ ἠρώτων,
2 Plato, . p. 311 B. καὶ ἐγὼ ἄς.
wotsntvevor ὩΣ Ἱπποκράτους τῆς 3 Plato, Protagoras, Ὁ. 811.

Crap. XXIII. WHAT THE SOPHIST TEACHES. 261

Sophist ? Hipp.—Yes: if.I am to tell you my real opinion.
Sokr.—Perhaps however you only propose to visit Protagoras, as
you visited your schoolmaster and your musical or gymnastical
teacher : not for the purpose of entering that career as a profes-
sional man, but to acquire such instruction as is suitable fora
private citizen and a freeman? Hipp.—That is more the in-
struction which I seek from Protagoras. Sokr.—Do you know
then what you are going todo? You are consigning your mind
to be treated by one whom you call a Sophist: but I shall be
surprised if you know what a Sophist is*—and if you do not
know, neither do you know what it is—good or evil—to which
you are consigning your mind. Htpp.—I think I do know.
The Sophist is, as the name implies, one cognizant of matters
wise and able.? Sokr.—That may be said also of painters and
carpenters. If we were asked in what special department are
painters cognizant of matters wise and able, we should specify
that it was in the workmanship of portraits. Answer me the
same question about the Sophist. What sort of workmanship
does he direct? Htpp.—That of forming able speakers. Sokr.
—Your answer may be correct, but it is not specific enough :
for we must still ask, About what is it that the Sophist forms
able speakers? just as the harp-master makes a man an able
speaker about harping, at the same time that he teaches him
harping. About what is it that the Sophist forms able speakers :

1Plato, Protag. p. 312 A. σὺ δέ,
ἣν δ᾽ ἐγώ, πρὸς θεῶν, οὐκ ἂν αἰσχύνοιο
ἱ Ἕλληνας σαυτὸν σοφιστὴν
παρέχων; Νὴ τὸν Δί᾽, ὦ Σώκρατες,
εἴπερ γε ἃ διανοοῦμαι χρὴ λέγειν. Ast
ton’s Leben, p. 78) and other
latonic critics treat this Sophistomanie
(as they call it) of an Athenian youth
as something ludicrous and contempt-
ible: all the more ludicrous because
they say) pone of them goes to qualify
mself for becoming a Sophist, but
would even be ashamed of the title.
Yet if we suppose the same question
addressed to a young Englishman of
rank and fortune (as Hippokrates was
at Athens), ‘‘ Why do you pat yourself
under the teaching of Dr. —— at
Eton or Professor —— at Oxford?
Do you intend to qualify yourself for
becoming a schoolmaster or a pro-
fessor?” He will laugh at you for
the question : if he answers it seriously,

he will probably answer as Hippokrates
does. But there is nothing at all in
the question to imply that the school-
master or the professor is a worthless
pretender or the youth foolish, for
ing anxious to obtain instruction
from him ; which is the inferenee that
Ast and other Platonic critics desire us
to draw about the Athenian Sophists.

2 Plato, Protag. Ὁ. 312 C. ὁ, τι δέ
ποτε ὃ σοφιστής ἐστι, θαυμάζοιμ᾽ ἂν εἰ
οἷσθα, &.

8 Plato, Protag. p. 812 Ὁ. ὥς περ
τοὔνομα λέγει, τὸν τῶν σοφῶν ἐπιστη-
μονα. (Quasi sophistes sit—é τῶν
σοφῶν ἵστης, Heindorf.) If this sup-
position of Heindorf be just, we may
see in it an illustration of the etymo-
logical views of Plato, which I shall
notice when I come to the Kratylus.

4Plato, Protag. p. 812 Ὁ. ποίας
ἐργασίας ἐπιστάτης; ἐπιστάτην τοῦ
ποιῆσαι δεινὸν λέγειν.

262 PROTASURAS. παν. XXIIL

of course abcat that whi:k be birec'f knows?’ Higp—Pro-
bably. Sekr.—Wat them & :ta:, about which the Sophist is
kiumeclf coguizazt, and makes bis papel cognizant ? Hipp —By
Zeus, I cannot ξ:τε τῦα acy farther answer?
πα yocr mind? If the quonion wee about
subexzt τοῦ mind? If the question were about
Ξ ΤῊΝ trusting your body to any one, with the nek whether
strection of 18 Should become scand or unsound, you would have
* Sephaet thought long, and taken much advice, before you de-
mowing bo aded. Bat now, when it is about your mind, which
forehand = you value more than your body, and upon the good or
about to evil of which all your affairs turn?—you are hastening
without reflection and without advice, you are ready
to pay all the money that you possess or can obtain, with a firm
resolution already taken to put rourself at all hazard under Pro-
tagoras : whom you do not know—with whom you have never
once talked—whom you call a Sophist, without knowing what a
Sophist is? Hepp—I must admit the case to be as you say.‘
Sokr.—Perhaps the Sophist is a man who brings for sale those
transportable commodities, instruction or doctrine, which form
the nourishment of the mind. Now the traders im food for the
OE eee eet aun brew whan ee
neither they nor their purchasers know whether it is good for
the body; unless by chance any one of them be a gymnastic
trainer or a physician® So, too, these Sophists, who carry about
food for the mind, praise all that they have to sell : but perhaps
some of them are ignorant, and assuredly their purchasers are
ignorant, whether it be good or bad for the mind: unless by
accident any one possess medical knowledge about the mind.
Now if you, Hippokrates, happen to possess such knowledge of
what is good or bad for the mind, you may safely purchase doc-
trine from Protagoras or from any one else :* but if not, you are

1 Plato, Protag. p- 312 D-E. ἐρωτή- πράττειν, χρηστοῦ κ πονηροῦ αὐτοῦ yeve-

σεως γὰρ ἔτι ἦ ἀποκρισις ἥμιν δεῖται, , ἅς.
περὲ fev ὁ σοφιστὴς δεινὸν ποιεῖ λέγειν: 4 Plato, Protag. p. 313 C.
ὁ δεινὸν δήπον ποιεῖ 5 Plato, Protag. D.
Te wep καὶ ἐπιστήμονα, περὶ 6 Plato, Protag. p. 313 E. ἐὰν μή
ct τις τύχῃ περὶ τὴν ν
4 , Protag. p. 312 E. ὥν. εἰ μὲν οὖν σὺ ἄνεις
slaves τὸς σώξατος τες ν ψυχήν: τούτων τί χρηστὸν καὶ πονηρόν, ao

CHap. XXIIL DANGER OF ACTING WITHOUT KNOWLEDGE. 263

hazarding and putting at stake your dearest interests. The pur-
chase of doctrines is far more dangerous than that of eatables or
drinkables. As to these latter, you may carry them away with
you in separate vessels, and before you take them into your body
you may invoke the Eapert, to tell you what you may safely eat
and drink, and when, and how much. But this cannot be done
with doctrines. You cannot carry away them in a separate vessel
to be tested; ycu learn them and take them into the mind itself;
so that you go away, after having paid your money, actually
damaged or actually benefited, as the case may be.’ We will
consider these matters in conjunction with our elders. But first
let us go and talk with Protagoras—we can consult the others
afterwards.

Such is the preliminary conversation of Sokrates with Hippo-
krates, before the interview with Protagoras. I have
given it (like the introduction to the Lysis) at con- the intro-
siderable length, because it is a very characteristic False per-
specimen of the Sokratico-Platonic point of view. It suasion of
brings to light that false persuasion of knowledge, brought
under which men unconsciously act, especially in to
what concerns the mind and its treatment. Common fame and
celebrity suffice to determine the most vehement aspirations
towards a lecturer, in one who has never stopped to reflect or
enquire what the lecturer does. The pressure applied by So-
krates in his successive questions, to get beyond vague generali-
ties into definite particulars—the insufficiency, thereby exposed,
of the conceptions with which men usually rest satisfied—exhibit
the working of his Elenchus in one of its most instructive ways.
The parallel drawn between the body and the mind—the con-
stant precaution taken in the case of the former to consult the
professional man and to follow his advice in respect both to dis-

δὲ μή, Spa, ὦ φίλτατε, μὴ περὶ τοῖς φιλτά- ἐπαΐοντα, 5, τι τε ἐδεστέον ἢ ποτέον καὶ
τοις κυβεύῃς τε καὶ κενδυνεύῃς. ὅ, τι μή, καὶ ὁπόσον, καὶ ὁπότε. . . . .
1 Plato, Protag. p. 314 A. σιτία μαθήματα δὲ οὐκ ἔστιν ἐν ἄλλῳ ἀγγείῳ
μὲν γὰρ καὶ ποτὰ πριάμενον ἔξεστιν ἐν ἀπενεγκεῖν, ἀλλ᾽ ἀνά: καταθέντα τὴν
ἄλλοις ἀγγείοις ἀποφέρειν, καὶ πρὶν τιμὴν τὸ μάθημα ἐν αὑτῇ τῇ ψνχῇ
δέξασθαι αὐτὰ ἐς τὸ σῶμα πιόντα ἣ λαβόντα καὶ μαθόντα ἀπιέναι ἣ βεβλαμ-
φαγόντα, καταθέμενον οἴκαδε ἔξεστι μένον ἢ ὠφελημένον.
συμβονλεύσασθαι παρακαλέσαντα τὸν

264 PROTAGORAS. CuHap. XXIII.

cipline and nourishment—are in the same vein of sentiment
which we have already followed in other dialogues. Here too,
as elsewhere, some similar Expert, in reference to the ethical and
intellectual training of mind, is desiderated, as still more im-
peratively necessary. Yet where is he to be found? How is the
business of mental training to be brought toa beneficial issue
without him? Or is Protagoras the man to supply such a de-
mand? We shall presently see.

Sokrates and Hippokrates proceed to the house of Kallias, and
find him walking about in the fore-court with Prota-
and Hippo- goras, and some of the other company ; all of whom
Krates g0t0 are described as treating the Sophist with almost
Kallias. ostentatious respect. Prodikus and Hippias have
gompan Y each their separate hearers, in or adjoining to the
share, court. Sokrates addresses Protagoras.
Protagoras. | Sokr.—Protagoras, I and Hippokrates here are come
uestionsot to talk to you about something. Prot.—Do you wish
kratesto to talk to me alone, or in presence of the rest? Sokr.
Answer of —To us it is indifferent: but I will tell you what we
the latter, come about, and you may then determine for your-
ofthe acon. self. This Hippokrates is a young man of noble
aticalprofes- family, and fully equal to his contemporaries in capa-
oon ἀρᾷ δἰδ city. He wishes to become distinguished in the city ;
ness in and he thinks he shall best attain that object through
a your society. Consider whether you would like better
eophist. to talk with him alone, or in presence of the rest.
Prot.—Your consideration on my behalf, Sckrates, is reasonable.
A person of my profession must be cautious in his proceedings.
I, a foreigner, visit large cities, persuading the youth of best
‘family to frequent my society in preference to that of their kins-
men and all others; in the conviction that I shall do them good.
I thus inevitably become exposed to much jealousy and even to

1 Plat. Prot. p. 316. which Xenophon assigns to his friend
The motive assigned by y Hippokrates, Proxenus for taking lessons and pa
for putting himself under the teaching fees to the Leontine Gorgias Piet
of tagoras, is just the same as that Anab. ii. 6, 16).

Crap. XXIII. PROFESSION OF A SOPHIST. 265

hostile conspiracies.! The sophistical art is an old one ;? but its
older professors, being afraid of enmity if they proclaimed what
they really were, have always disguised themselves under other
titles. Some, like Homer, Hesiod, and Simonides, called them-
selves poets; others, Orpheus, Museus, &c., professed to prescribe
religious rites and mysteries: others announced themselves as
gymnastic trainers or teachers of music. But I have departed
altogether from this policy ; which indeed did not succeed in
really deceiving any leading men—whom alone it was intended
to deceive—and which, when found out, entailed upon its authors
the additional disgrace of being considered deceivers. The true
caution consists in open dealing ; and this is what I have always
adopted. I avow myself a Sophist, educating men. I am now
advanced in years, old enough to be the father of any of you, and
have grown old in the profession: yet during all these years,
thank God, I have suffered no harm either from my practice or
my title.* If therefore’you desire to converse with me, it will be
far more agreeable to me to converse in presence of all who are
now in the house. *

speech is composed by Plato himself.
I read, therefore, with much surprise,
a note of Heindorf (ad p. 816 Ὁ),
wherein he says about tagoras :
*“Callidé in postremis reticet, quod
addere poterat, χρήματα διδόντας."
‘“‘Protagoras cunningly keeps back,
what he might have here added, that
people gave him money for his teach-

g.” eindorf must surely have

1 The jealousy felt by fathers,
mothers, and relatives against a teacher
or converser who acquired great in-
fluence over their youthful relatives,
is alluded to by Sokrates in the
Platonic Apology (p. 37 E), and is
illustrated a tragical incident in
the Cyro ia of Xenophon, iii. 1.
14-88. Compare also Xenophon, Me-
morab. i. 2, 52.

2Plat. Prot. p. 816 Ὁ. ἐγὼ δὲ τὴν
σοφιστικὴν τέχνην φημὶ μὲν εἶναι
παλαιάν. ‘

3 Plat. Prot. p. 317 C. ὥστε σὺν θεῷ
εἰπεῖν μηδὲν δεινὸν πάσχειν διὰ τὸ Opodo-
γεῖν σοφιστὴς εἶναι.

4Plat. Prot. p. 817 D. In the
Menon, the Platonic Sokrates is made
to say that Protagoras died at the age
of seventy ; that he had practised forty
years as a Sophist; and that during
all that long time he had enjoyed the
highest esteem and reputation, even
after his death, “ down to the present
day (Menon, p. 91 E).

t must be remembered that the

h, of which I have just given an
abstract, is celivered not by the his-
torical, real, Protagoras, but by the
character named , depicted
Sy Plato in this dialogue: 4.¢ the

supposed that he was commenting
upon a real speech, delivered by the
historical person called Protagoras.
Otherwise what can be meant by this
charge of ‘“‘cunning reticence or keep-

ing back?” " Protag

oras here speaks

Plato puts into his mouth ;
neither more nor less. What makes
the remark of Heindorf the more pre-
posterous is, that in page 328 B the
very fact, which Protagoras is here said
“cunningly to keep back,” appears
mentioned by Protagoras; and men-
tioned in the same spirit of honourable
frankness and fair-dealing as that
which pervades the discourse which I
have just (freely) translated. Indeed
nothing can be more marked than the
way in which Plato makes Protagerzas
dwell with emphasis on the frankness
and openness of his dealing : nothing

266 PROTAGORAS. CHap. XXIII.

On hearing this, Sokrates—under the suspicion (he tells us)
Protagoras that Protagoras wanted to show off in the presence of
prefers to Prodikus and Hippias—proposes to convene all the

resence of dispersed guests, and to talk in their hearing. This
bled com. ἴδ accordingly done, and the conversation recom-
pany. mences--Sokrates repeating the introductory request
which he had preferred on behalf of Hippokrates.

Sokr.—Hippokrates is anxious to distinguish himself in the
Answersof City, and thinks that he shall best attain this end by
Frotagoras. placing himself under your instruction. He would
to train gladly learn, Protagoras, what will happen to him,
ye victwous if he comes into intercourse with you. Prot.—Young
citizens. § man, if you come to me, on the day of your first visit,
you will go home better than you came, and on the next day the
like : each successive day you will make progress for the better. }
Sokr.—Of course he will; there is nothing surprising in that:
but towards what, and about what, will he make progress? Prot.
—Your question is a reasonable one, and I am glad to reply to
it. I shall not throw him back—as other Sophists do, with
mischievous effect—into the special sciences, geometry, arithmetic,
astronomy, music, &c.; just after he has completed his course in
them. I shall teach him what he really comes to learn: wisdom
and good counsel, both respecting his domestic affairs, that he
may manage his own family well—and respecting the affairs of
the city, that he may address himself to them most efficaciously,
both in speech and act. Sokr.—You speak of political or social
science. You engage to make men good citizens. Prot.—
Exactly so. ?

Sokr.—That isa fine talent indeed, which you possess, if you
Sokrates do possess it; for (to speak frankly) I thought that
doubts the thing had not been teachable, nor intentionally

whether vir-
tue is teach- communicable, by man to man.* I will tell you why

can be more at variance with the 3 Plato, Protag. pp. 318-819.
character which critics give us of the The declaration made by
Sopile of their tame: While teaching pupils into the special arte—is
pupils of their money while pupils in e re-
them nothing at all, or what they presented by Plato as intended to be
themselves knew to be false”. an indirect censure on Hippias, then
ad. Plato, Pro . Pp $18 A. it, ae sitting by.

philosophorum scholas ven u0- .
tidie secum aliquid boni ferat’: aut .ν osteo, Protag. Ὁ. 810 B. οὗ διδακ-
sanior domum redeat, aut sanabilior.” Orbe wy μηδ᾽ vx ἀνθρώπων παρασκενα-
Seneca, Epistol. 108, p. 680. Y ἀνυρωώποις.

Crap, XXIII IS VIRTUE TEACHABLE ? 267

I think so. The Athenians are universally recognised 8016. Rea-

. ‘ . sons for
as intelligent men. Now when our public assembly such doubt
is convened, if the subject of debate be fortification, Protegoras
ship-building, or any other specialty which they re- explain | it
gard as learnable and teachable, they will listen to no is or not.
one except a professional artist or craftsman.1 If any non-pro-
fessional man presumes to advise them on the subject, they refuse
to hear him, however rich and well-born he may be. It is thus
that they act in matters of any special art ;? but when the de-
bate turns upon the general administration of the city, they hear
every man alike—the brass-worker, leather-cutter, merchant,
navigator, rich, poor, well-born, low-born, &c. Against none of
them is any exception taken, as in the former case—that he comes
to give advice on that which he has not learnt, and on which he
has had no master.* It is plain that the public generally think
it not teachable. Moreover our best and: wisest citizens, those
who possess civic virtue in the highest measure, cannot commu-
nicate to their own children this same virtue, though they cause
them to be taught all those accomplishments which paid masters
can impart. Periklés and others, excellent citizens themselves,
have never been able to make any one else excellent, either in or
out of their own family. These reasons make me conclude that
social or political virtue is not teachable. I shall be glad if you
can show me that it is so. ‘

Prot.—I will readily show you. But shall I, like an old man
addressing his juniors, recount to you an illustrative tion
mythe?® or shall I go through an expository dis- of Prot ie
course? The mythe perhaps will be the more ac- begins with
ceptable of the two. a mythe.

There was once a time when Gods existed, but neither men nor

1 Plato, Protag. p. 819 C. καὶ τἄλλα βουλεύειν ἐπιχειρεῖ" δῆλον γὰρ ὅτι οὐχ
πάντα οὕτως, ὅσα ἡγοῦνται μαθητά τε ἡγοῦνται διδακτὸν εἶναι.
καὶ διδακτὰ εἶναι. upean δέ τις ἄλλος 4 Plato, Protag. pp. 319-890.
πιχειρῇ αὑτοῖς συμβουλεύειν ὃν ἐκεῖνοι 5 Plato, Protag. p. 820 Ο. πότερον
μὴ οἴονται δημιουργὸν εἶναι, Kc. τς ὑμῖν, ὡς ape rand νεωτέροις, μῦθον
3 Plato, Protag. p. 819 D. Περὶ μὲν λόγων ἐπιδείξω, ἣ λόγῳ διεξελθών ;
οὖν ὧν olovrar ἐν τέχνῃ εἶναι, οὕτω Ὁ is probable that the phists often
διαπράττονται. delivered illustrative mythes or fables
3 Plato, Protag. p. 819 D. καὶ rov- as a more interesting way of handling
τοις οὐδεὶς τοῦτο ἐπιπλήσσει ὥσπερ τοῖς social matters before an audience.
τ ν, ὅτι οὐδαμόθεν μαθών, οὐδὲ ὄν- Such was the memorable fable called
τος ὃ κάλον οὐδενὸς αὐτῷ, ὅπειτα συμ- the choice of Héraklés by Prodikus.

368

Mythe.
First fabri-
cation of
men by the
Gods. Pro-
metheusand
Epimetheus.
Bad distri-
bution of en-
dowments
to man by
the latter.
It is partl
amended by
Prometheus.

PROTAGORAS. Caar. XXUL

᾿ animals had yet come into existence. At the epoch

prescribed by Fate, the Gods fabricated men and
animals in the interior of the earth, out of earth, fire,
and other ingredients: directing the brothers Prome-
theus and Epimetheus to fit them out with suitable
endowments. Epimetheus, having been allowed by
his brother to undertake the task of distributing these
endowments, did his work very improvidently, wasted
all his gifts upon the inferior animals, and left nothing
for man. When Prometheus came to inspect what

had been done, he found that other animals were adequately
equipped, but that man had no natural provision for clothing,
shoeing, bedding, or defence. The only way whereby Prome-
theus could supply the defect was, by breaking into the common
workshop of Athéné and Hephestus, and stealing from thence
their artistic skill, together with fire.! Both of these he pre-
sented to man, who was thus enabled to construct for himself, by
art, all that other animals received from nature and more besides.

Still however, mankind did not possess the political or social

Prometheus

not give
then, the

itions
essential for
society.

art; which Zeus kept in his own custody, where
Prometheus could not reach it. Accordingly, though
mankind could provide for themselves as individuals,
yet when they attempted to form themselves into com-
munities, they wronged each other so much, from
being destitute of the political or social art, that they
were presently forced again into dispersion.? The
art of war, too, being a part of the political art, which
mankind did not possess—they could not get up a
common defence against hostile animals: so that the
human race would have been presently destroyed,
had not Zeus interposed to avert such a consumma-
tion. . He sent Hermés to mankind, bearing with him

1 Plato, Protag. pp. 321-822. ἀπορίᾳ
οὖν ἐχόμενος ὃ Προμηθεὺς ἥντινα σωτη-
ρίαν τῷ ἀνθρώπῳ εὕροι, κλέπτει Ἧφαί-
στον καὶ ᾿Αθηνᾶς τὴν ἔντεχνον σοφίαν
σὺν πυρί. . . . Τὴν μὲν οὖν περὶ τὸν
βίον σοφίαν ἄνθρωπος ταύτῃ ἔσχε, τὴν
δὲ πολιτικὴν οὐκ εἶχεν" ἦν γὰρ παρὰ τῷ
Act . ᾿

if the reader will compare this with
the doctrine delivered in the Platonic

Timseus—that the inferior animals
spring from degenerate men—he will
perceive the entire variance between
he two (Timzus, pp. 91-92).

2 Plato, Protag. p. 822 B. ἐζήτουν
δὴ ἁθροίζεσθαι καὶ σώζεσθαι κτἔζοντες
πόλεις - oT’ οὖν ἀθροισθεῖεν, ἠδίκουν ἀλ-
λήλους, ἅτε οὐκ ἔχοντες τὴν πολιτικὴν
τέχνην, ὥστε πάλιν σκεδαννύμενοι
θείροντο.

269

Crap. XXIII. BOCIAL ART—GIVEN TO ALL.

Justice and the sense of Shame (or Moderation), as the bonds
and ornaments of civic society, coupling men in friendship. !
Hermés asked Zeus—Upon what principle shall I distribute
these gifts among mankind? Shall I distribute them in the same
way as artistic skill is distributed, only to a small number—a
few accomplished physicians, navigators, &c., being adequate to
supply the wants of the entire community? Or are they to be
apportioned in a eertain dose to every man? Undoubtedly, to
every man (was the command of Zeus). All without exception
must be partakersin them. If they are confined exclusively toa
few, like artistic or professional skill, no community'can exist. 3
Ordain, by my authority, that every man, who cannot take a
share of his own in justice and the sense of shame, shall be slain,
as a nuisance to the community.

This fable will show you, therefore, Sokrates (continues Prota-
goras), that the Athenians have good reason for

᾿ Pro
making the distinction to which you advert. When we

oras
follows up

his mythe

_ they are discussing matters of special art, they will
hear only the few to whom such matters are known.
But when they are taking counsel about social or
political virtue, which consists altogether in justice
and moderation, they naturally hear every one ; since

by a dis-
course.
Justicé and
the sense of
shame are
not profes-
sional attri-
butes, but

every one is presumed, as a condition of the existence are

of the commonwealth, ‘to be a partaker therein.®

Moreover, even though they know a man not to have .

these virtues in reality, they treat him as insane if he
does not proclaim himself to have them, and make

profession

of virtue : whereas, in the case of the special arts, if a man makes

Compare Plato, Republic, i. p. 851 C,
p. 852 B, where Sokrates sets forth a
similar argument.

' 1 Plato, Protagor. p. 822 C. Ἑρμῆν
πέμπει ἄγοντα eis ἀνθρώπους αἰδῶ τε καὶ
δίκην, tv’ εἶεν πόλεων κόσμοι τε καὶ δεσ-
μοὶ φιλίας συναγωγοί.

-2 Plato, Protag. p. 822 C-D. εἷς ἔχων
ἰατρικὴν πολλοῖς ἱκανὸς ἰδιώταις, καὶ οἱ
ἄλλοι δημιουργοί. καὶ δίκην καὶ
αἰδῶ οὕτω θὼ ἐν τοῖς ἀνθρώποις, ἣ ἐπὶ
πάντας νείμω; "Eni πάντας, ἔφη ὁ Ζεύς,
καὶ πάντες μετεχόντων’ οὐ γὰρ ἂν
γένοιντο πόλεις, εἰ ὀλίγοι αὐτῶν μετέ-
χοιεν ὥσπερ ἄλλων τεχνῶν. καὶ νόμον γε

e
denotes a

approved by his comrades.
- 561—aidw θέσθ᾽ ἐνὶ θυμῷ ᾿Αλλήλους
T αἰδεῖσθε κατὰ κρατερὰς ὑσμίνας.

3 Plat. Prot. pp. 822-828.

Ges παρ᾽ ἐμοῦ, τὸν μὴ δυνάμενον αἰδοῦς
καὶ δίκης μετέχειν, κτείνειν ὡς νόσον πό-

Hom. Π.

270 PROTAGORAS. Cuar. XXIIL

proclamation of his own skill as a physician or musician, they
censure or ridicule him. ?

Nevertheless, though they account this political or social virtue
Constant 22 universal endowment, they are far from thinking
teaching of that it comes spontaneously or by nature. They con-
Theory of ceive it to be generated by care and teaching. For in ©

% respect of all those qualities which come by nature or
by accident, no one is ever angry with another or blames another
for being found wanting. An ugly, dwarfish, or sickly man is
looked upon simply with pity, because his defects are such as he
cannot help. But when any one manifests injustice or other |
qualities the opposite of political virtue, then all his neighbours
visit him with indignation, censure, and perhaps punishment :
implying clearly their belief that this virtue is an acquirement
obtained by care and learning.* Indeed the whole institution of
punishment has no other meaning. It is in itself a proof that
men think social virtue to be acquirable and acquired. For no
rational man ever punishes malefactors because they have done
wrong, or simply with a view to the past :—since what is already
done cannot be undone. He punishes with a view to the future,
in order that neither the same man, nor others who see him
punished, may be again guilty. of similar wrong. This opinion
plainly implies the belief, that virtue is producible by training,
Since men punish for the purpose of prevention. ὃ

1 Plato, Protag. p. 828 C. ῦνται καὶ ἰδίᾳ καὶ Synocig. Compare
2 Plato, Protag. DD. 828-824. Diato, an p. 983, where the
3 Plato, Protag: Ὁ. 824 A-B. οὐδεὶς same ἃ is announced :

γὰρ κολάζει τοὺς ἀδικοῦντας πρὸς τούτῳ De Ira, i 16. “Nam, ut Plato ait,
τὸν νοῦν ἔχων καὶ τούτου ἕνεκα ὅτι ἠδίκη- Nemo dens punit, peocatum
σεν, ὅστις μὴ saree, θηρίον ἀλογ ores est, ane peccetur.
τιμωρειται" μετ πιχειρωῶν non ὁ

᾿ wedeer tees. τ τα ἀρ

πολάδειν οὐ τοῦ πορεληλυθότος ἔμεκα. &
ἀ TOS τιμωρεῖται---ου Protag. ἢ. pronoanoes a just en-
πραχθὲν ἀγένητον θείη--αἀλλὰ τοῦ μέν. comium 4 of
-.Adovros χάριν, ἵνα μὴ αὖθις ἀδικήσῃ μήτε ment, as he

αὐτὸς μήτε ἄλλος ὁ τοῦτον ἰδὼν com together the

κολασϑέντα. καὶ τοιαύτην διάνοιαν ἔχων, clared in the two modern Cheoriee—

διανοεῖται παιδευτὴν εἶναι vy: ἅπο- Reforming and . e
τροπῆς γοῦν ἕνεκα κολάζει. further, however, that the same theory

This clear and unishment the

an exposition of ent reappears in
‘the theory of hment is one of the , which I do not think exact.
‘most memorable in Plato, or The p of punishment, as given
ἴῃ any ancient aa or. And if we are in the simply cure ἃ

Vv
accepted at that time—ravryy οὖν τὴν on ,
δόξαν πάντες ἔχουσιν, ὅσοι περ τιμω- tutelary results as regards society.

Cap. XXIII. CONSTANT TEACHING OF VIRTUE. 271

I come now to your remaining argument, Sokrates. You urge
that citizens of eminent civil virtue cannot com- Why eni-
municate that virtue to their own sons, to whom nent men
nevertheless they secure all the accomplishments their sons
which masters can teach. Now I have already shown °™inent.
you that civil virtue is the one accomplishment needful,! which
every man without exception must possess, on pain of punishment
or final expulsion, if he be without it. I have shown you, more-
over that every one believes it to be communicable by teaching
and attention. How can you believe then that these excellent
fathers teach their sons other things, but do not teach them this,
the want of which entails such terrible penalties ?

The fact is, they do teach it: and that too with great pains.”
They begin to admonish and lecture their children, Teaching
from the earliest years. Father, mother, tutor, nurse, schoal
all vie with each other to make the child as good as
possible : by constantly telling him on every occasion ΣΝ
which arises, This is right—That is wrong—This is %": &
honourable—That is mean—This is holy—That is unholy—Do
these things, abstain from those.? If the child obeys them, it is
well: if he do not, they straighten or rectify him, like a crooked
piece of wood, by reproof and flogging. Next, they send him to
a schoolmaster, who teaches him letters and the harp; but whois
enjoined to take still greater pains in watching over his orderly
behaviour. Here the youth is put to read, learn by heart, and
recite, the compositions of able poets; full of exhortations to
excellence and of stirring examples from the good men of past
times.* On the harp also, he learns the best songs, his conduct is
strictly watched, and his emotions are disciplined by the influence
of rhythmical and regular measure. While his mind is thus
trained to good, he is sent besides to the gymnastic trainer, to
render his body a suitable instrument for it, and to guard against
fare τὸ ἐν, ἢ Οὐκ ἔστιν, ob ἀραγκοῖον παρατιθέασιν αὐτοῖς ἐπὶ τῶν βάθρων ἀνα;
λει πόλος εἶναι, ἐν τοῦ τούτῳ nap ΠΣ μὰν καὶ λ ee Ἐκρανθάνειν ἀναγκάζουσιν, iyo {ere nat
4 ἀπο la ἣν σὺ ἀπορεῖς. μὲν νονθετήσεις ἔνεισι, πολλαὶ δὲ διέξο-

to, Protgg. p. 825 B. Sot καὶ ἔπαινοι καὶ ἐγκώμεα παλαιῶν

: Plato, Ῥ. 826 Ὁ. wap’ éxa- ρῶν ἀγαθῶν, ἵνα ὁ παῖς Cyndy μιμῆται καὶ
στον καὶ ἔργον καὶ λόγον διδάσκοντες καὶ ὁρέγηται τ τοιοῦτος γενέσθαι.
ἐνδεικνύμενοι ὅτι τὸ μὲν δίκαιον, τὸ δὲ Protag. p. 826 B. iva τὰ

ἄδικον, καὶ τόδε μὲν καλόν, τόδε δὲ aicx- σώματα "βατω ἔχοντες ὑπηρετῶσι τῇ
ρόν, bv, ὅδ. διανοίᾳ χρηστῇ οὔσῃ,

972 PROTAGORAS. ᾿ Guar ΧΧΙ.

failure of energy under the obligations of military service. If he
be the son of a wealthy man, he is sent to such training sooner,
and remains in it longer. As soon as he is released from his
masters, the city publicly takes him in hand, compelling him to
learn the laws prescribed by old and good lawgivers,! to live
according to their prescriptions, and to learn both command and
obedience, on pain of being punished. Such then being the care
bestowed, both publicly and privately, to foster virtue, can you
really doubt, Sokrates, whether it be teachable? You might
much rather wonder if it were not s0.?

How does it happen, then, you ask, that excellent men so fre-
Alllearn quently have worthless sons, to whom, even with all
virtue from these precautions, they cannot teach their own virtue?
teaching #§ This is not surprising, when you recollect what I have
by all. just said—That in regard to social virtue, every man
learner must be a craftsman and producer; there ‘must be no
quire more non-professional consumers.* All of us are interested
orlessof = in rendering our neighbours just and virtuous, as well
upon hi as in keeping them so. Accordingly, every one,
mary ~—sinstead of being jealous, like a professional artist, of
aptitude. = seeing his own accomplishments diffused, stands for-
ward zealously in teaching justice and virtue to every one else,
and in reproving all short-comers.‘ Every man is a teacher of
virtue to others : every man learns his virtue from such general
teaching, public and private. The sons of the best men learn it
in this way, as well as others. The instruction of their fathers
counts for comparatively little, amidst such universal and para-
mount extraneous influence; so that it depends upon the
aptitude and predispositions of the sons themselves, whether they
turn out better or worse than others. The son of a superior man
will often turn out ill; while the son of a worthless man will

1 Plato, Protag. p. 828 D. «νόμους τε τεχγίτης or

ργός.
ὑπογράψασα, ἀγαθῶν καὶ παλαιῶν νομο- 4 Plato, | oe Ρ. 327 Α. et καὶ
θετῶν εὑρήματα, a ὧς. os τοῦτο καὶ ἰδίᾳ καὶ δημοσίᾳ was πάντα καὶ
to, Protag. p ἐδίδασκε καὶ Anrre τὸν μὴ καλῶς αὖ-

3 Plate Protag. p. P. 326 E. ὅτι λοῦντα, καὶ μὴ ἐφθόνει τούτον, ὥσπερ
τούτον τοῦ πράγματος, τῆς ἀρετῆς, εἰ νῦν τῶν δικαίων καὶ τῶν νομίμων οὐδεὶς
μέλλει πόλις εἶναι, οὐδένα δεῖ ἐδεω- φθονεῖ οὐδ᾽ ἀποκρύπτεται, aowe
τεύειν. ἕλον τῆ γάνος, sueurela pipet

It is to be regretted that there is no ἡμῖν ἡ. λων δικαιοσύνη καὶ ἀρετὴ "
precise word to translate exactly the διὰ ταῦτα: ᾶς. παντὶ προθύμως λέγει καὶ
useful antithesis between ἰδιώτης and διδάσκει καὶ τὰ δίκαια καὶ τὰ νόμμα.

CHap. XXIII. VIRTUE TAUGHT BY ALL TO ALL. 273

prove meritorious. So the case would be, if playing on the flute
were the one thing needful for all citizens ; if every one taught
and enforced flute-playing upon all others, and every one learnt
it from the teaching of all others! You would find that the
sons of good or bad flute-players would turn out good or bad, not
in proportion to the skill of their fathers, but according to their
own natural aptitudes. You would find however also, that all
of them, even the most unskilful, would be accomplished flute-
players, if compared with men absolutely untaught, who had
gone through no such social training. So too, in regard to
justice and virtue? The very worst man brought up in your
society and its public and private training, would appear to you
a craftsman in these endowments, if you compared him with men
who had been brought up without education, without laws,
without dikasteries, without any general social pressure bearing
on them, to enforce virtue: such men as the savages exhibited
last year in the comedy of Pherekrates at the Lenzan festival.
If you were thrown among such men, you, like the chorus of
misanthropes in that play, would look back with regret even
upon the worst criminals of the society which you had left, such
as Eurybatus and Phrynondas.®

But now, Sokrates, you are over-nice, because all of us are
teachers of virtue, to the best of every man’s power; anulogy of
while no particular individual appears to teach it learning
specially and ex professo By the same analogy, if Greek. No
you asked who was the teacher for speaking our (occhor
vernacular Greek, no one special person could be Proteguras
pointed out : δ nor would you find out who was the teaches
finishing teacher for those sons of craftsmen who Ynat better
learnt the rudiments of their art from their own thanothers.
fathers—while if the son of any non-professional person learns a
craft, it is easy to assign the person by whom he was taught.®

1 Plato, Protag. p. 827 C. 3 Plato, Protag. 221 Ὁ.
3 Plato, rer dale 827 CD. ὅστις ‘Plato, Protag. ἐν" νῦν δὲ
σοι ἀδικώτατος φαίνεται πος τῶν τρυφᾷ ς, ὦ Σώκρατες bee ἄντες διδάσ-
dy νόμοις καὶ ἀνθρώποις ραμμένων, καλοῦ εἰσιν ἀρετῆς, καθ καθ᾿ τῶν δύναται
δίκαιον αὐτὸν yet καὶ δημιονρ ὃν ἕκαστος, καὶ οὐδείς ou “halen,
άγματος, εἰ δέοι 5 Plato, Pro 827 E. εἶθ᾽
αὐτὸν ta fork πρὸς oars μήτε EP ay εἰ ᾿νοῦ sis" διδάσκαλος τὸ ane ἐλ-
τε ἀνάγκη μηδεμία ὃ >. ληνίζειν, οὐδ᾽ ἂν εἷς φανείη.
μ παντὸς 6
ἀναγκάζονσα ἀρετῆς ἐπιμελεῖσθαι Plato, Protag. p. 328 A.

2—18

974 PROTAGOBAS. CuapP. XXIII.

So it is in respect to virtue. All of us teach and enforce virtue
to the best of our power ; and we ought to be satisfied if there be
any one of us ever so little superior to the rest, in the power of
teaching it. Of such men I believe myself to be one.! I can
train a man into an excellent citizen, better than others, and in a
manner worthy not only of the fee which I ask, but even of a
still greater remuneration, in the judgment of the pupil himeelf.
This is the stipulation which I make with him: when he has
completed his course, he is either to pay me the fee which I shall
demand—or if he prefers, he may go into a temple, make oath
as to his own estimate of the instruction imparted to him, and
pay me according to that estimate.*

I have thus proved to you, Sokrates—That virtue is teachable
—That the Athenians account it to be teachable—
That there is nothing wonderful in finding the sons
dono! thea of good men worthless, and the eons of worthless men
come great good. Indeed this is true no less about the special

professions, than about the common accomplishment,
virtue. The sons of Polyklétus the statuary, and of many other
artists, are nothing as compared with their fathers.*

The sons ong of

Such is the discourse composed by Plato and attributed to the
Remarks § Platonic Protagoras—showing that virtue is teachable,
upon the - and intended to remove the difficulties proposed by
discourse. Sokrates. It is an exposition of some length : and
‘plainthe because itis put into the mouth of a Sophist, many
Manner in commentators presume, as a matter of course, that it

lished must be a manifestation of some worthless quality : ¢
enone that itis either empty verbiage, or ostentatious self-
munity pro- praise, or low-minded immorality. I am unable to
perpetuates perceive in the discourse any of these demerits. I
“ think it one of the best parts of the Platonic writings,

1 Plato, Protag. p. 328 B. ᾿Αλλὰ κἂν been followed ὃ many later critics.

ὀλέγον ἔστι τις ὅστις διαφέρει ἡμῶν “Οὐροβῦο Θ doceri possit?
pepeeize “is ἀρετήν, ἐ ἀγαπητόν. Ὧν Quod insitait demonstrare So hista,
els εἶναι, ep argumentis et 4025

+ 2'Piato, Protag. p. 828 Β. contra seipsum faciant.”

3 Plato, Pro To me this appears the reverse of
450 ppbaten ἢ ἘΣ $26 C9, who has the trath. But even if it ‘were true,

CHaP XXIII. PURPOSE OF THE DISCOURSE. 275

as an exposition of the growth and propagation of common sense
—the common, established, ethical and social sentament, among
- ἃ community : sentiment neither dictated in the beginning, by
any scientific or artistic lawgiver, nor personified in any special
guild of craftsmen apart from the remaining community—nor
inculcated by any formal professional teachers—nor tested by
analysis—nor verified by comparison with any objective standard :
but self-sown and self-asserting, stamped, multiplied, and kept in
circulation, by the unpremeditated conspiracy of the general 1
public—the omnipresent agency of King Nomos and his nume-
rous volunteers.

In many of the Platonic dialogues, Sokrates is made to dwell

upon the fact that there are no recognised professional Antithesis
teachers of virtue ; and to ground upon this fact a of Frota,
doubt, whether virtue be really teachable. But the qokrates.
present dialogue is the only one in which the fact virtue isto
is accounted for, and the doubt formally answered. be asaimi-
There are neither special teachers, nor professed special art.

pupils, nor determinate periods of study, nor definite lessons or
stadia, for the acquirement of virtue, as there are for a particular
art or craft: the reason being, that in that department every
man must of necessity be a practitioner, more or less perfectly :
every man has an interest in communicating it to his neighbour :
hence every man is constantly both teacher and learner. Herein
consists one main and real distinetion between virtue and the

no blame could fall on Protagoras.
We should only be warranted in con-
clu that it suited the scheme of
Plato to make him talk nonsense.

1 This is what the Platonic Sokrates

alludes to in the Phzdon and else-
- where. of τὴν δημοτικήν τε καὶ πολι-
τικὴν ἀρετὴν ἐπιτετηδευκότες, ἣν δὴ
καλοῦσι σωφροσύνην τε καὶ δικαιοσύνην,
ἐξ ἔθους τε καὶ μελέτης γεγοννῖαν, avev
ἐλοσοφέας τε καὶ νοῦ. Phsedon, p. 82

5 com the same dialogue, p. 68
C; also Republic, Σ. p. 619 Ο--ἔθει ἄνευ
φιλοσοφίας ἀρετῆς Andra.

The account given by Mr. James
Mill ent on Mackintosh,
259-260) the manner in which the

established morality of a society is
transmitted and perpet

com
Piatonic tagoras. The passage
too long to be cited: I give here only

the concluding words, which describe
Θ δημοτικὴ ἀρετὴ avev φιλοσοφίας---
‘*In this manner it is that men, in
the social state, acquire the habits of
moral acting, and certain affections
connected with it, before they are capa-
ble of reflecting upon the grounds
which recommend the acts either to
raise or blame. Nearly at this point
he ter part of them remain: con-
tinuing to perform moral acts and to
abstain from the contrary, chiefly from
the habits which they have acquired,
and the authority upon which they
originally acted: though it is not pos-

. sible that any man should come to the

years and blessing of reason, without
perceiving at least in an indistinct and
general way, the advantage which
mankind derive from their to-
wards one another in one way

er
than another.”

276 PROTAGORAS. Cuap. XXIII.

special arts ; an answer to the view most frequently espoused by
the Platonic Sokrates, assimilating virtue to a professional craft,
which ought to have special teachers, and a special season of
apprenticeship, if it is to be acquired at all.

The speech is censured by some critics as prolix. But to me it
seems full of matter and argument, exceedingly free from super-
fluous rhetoric. The fable with which it opens presents of course
the poetical ornament which belongs to that manner of handling.
It is however fully equal, in point of perspicuity as well as charm
—in my judgment, it is even superior—to any other fable in Plato.

When the harangue, lecture, or sermon, of Protagoras is con-
Procedure cluded, Sokrates both expresses his profound admira-
of Sokrates tion of it, and admits the conclusion—That virtue is
the teachable—to be made out, as well as it can be made
course of — out by any continuous exposition. In fact, the
—hecom- speaker has done all that could be done by Perikles
ope. or the best orator of the assembly. He has givena
anniv and ong series of reasonings in support of his own case,
some ofthe without stopping to hear the doubts of opponents.
fonds as. He has sailed along triumphantly upon the stream of
sumptions. public sentiment, accepting all the established beliefs
—appealing to his hearers with all those familiar phrases, round
which the most powerful associations are grouped—and taking
for granted that justice, virtue, good, evil, &c., are known, indis-

1 Plato, Protag. pp. 828-3829. meanness and vulgarity, hi have forgotten
Very different inneed is the senti- that t the Platonic does
ment of the principal Platonic com- y the same thing in the Re-
mentators. eiermacher will not public deriving the entire social union
allow the mythus of Protagoras tobe from human necessities (Republ. ii.

com in the style EE , Hermann is hardly leas severe
. ras, copied from Protagorean discourse (Gesch.
Seite cca pS ALG Sy ane

e at a ‘ ma- ‘or my part, ea view
terialisti dle tiber

che Denkungsart, -

die sinnliche Erfahrung nicht hinans sons. I the discourse one of the
philosophirt” (Einleitung zum Prota- most and instructive ctive portions
goras, vol. i. pp. 283-2384). of the Platonic writi I could

To the like purpose Ast (Plat. Leb. believe that it was the com tion of

Ῥ. 71)}—who us that what is ex- Protagoras himself, my estimation of
Dressed in the mythus is, ‘“‘the vulgar him would be considerably raised.
and mean sentiment and manner of Steinhart pronounces a much more
thought of the Sophist: for it deduces rational and equitable judgment than
every , both arte and the social Ast and Schleiermacher, ἃ upon ἢ the dis-
union i » from human wants and course of Protagoras (Kinleitung zum
necessi ματα ΟΣ “_Aperentiy these critics, Prot. pp. 422-423).

as a proof of

Cnap. XXIII. DIALECTIC VERSUS RHETORIC. 277

putable, determinate data,-fully understood, and unanimously
interpreted. He has shown that the community take great pains,
both publicly and privately, to inculcate and enforce virtue: that
is, what they believe in and esteem as virtue. But is their belief
well founded? Is that which they esteem, really virtue? Do
they and their elegant spokesman Protagoras, know what virtue
is? 180, how do they know it, and can they explain it?

This is the point upon which Sokrates now brings his Elenchus
to bear: his method of short question and answer. One pur.
We have seen what long continuous speaking can do: ϑρορ οἱ ἐμο
we have now to see what short cross-questioning can To contrast
do. The antithesis between the two is at least one discourse
main purpose of Plato—if it be not even the purpose With short

(as Schleiermacher supposes it to be}—in this memo- mining
rable dialogue. ood anewer.

After your copious exposition, Protagoras (says So- Questions
krates), I have only one little doubt remaining, which by Sokrates
you will easily explain.’ You have several times virtueisone
spoken of justice, moderation, holiness, &c., as if they and indi-
all, taken collectively, made up virtue. Do you mean composed
that virtue is a Whole, and that these three names parts
denote distinct parts of it? Or are the three names Whether
all equivalent to virtuc, different names for one and are homo-
the same thing? Prot.—They are names signifying δὲ hetero-
distinct parts of virtue. Sokr.—Are these parts like geneous.
the parts of the face,—eyes, nose, mouth, ears—each part not
only distinct from the rest, but having its own peculiar proper-
ties? Or are they like the parts of gold, homogeneous with each
other and with the whole, differing only in magnitude? Prot.—
The former. Sokr.—Then some men may possess one part, some
another. Or is it necessary that he who possesses one part, should
possess all? Prot—By no means necessary. Some men are
courageous, but unjust: others are just, but not intelligent.
Sokr.—Wisdom and courage then, both of them, are parts of
virtue? Prot.—They are so. Wisdom is the greatest of the
parts: but no one of the parts is the exact likeness of another :
each of them has its own peculiar property.?

1 Plato, Protag. pp. 328 E—329 B. σμικροῦ τινος ἐνδεής εἶμι πάντ᾽ ἔχειν,

πλὴν σμικρόν τί μοι ἐμποδών, ὃ δῆλον
ὅτι Πρωταγόρας ῥᾳδίως ἐπεκδιδάξει.. .. 2 Plato, Protag. pp. 329-830.

278 PROTAGORAS. Cnar. ΧΧΤΙΣ

Sokr.—Now let us examine what sort of thing each of these
parts is) Tell me—is justice some thing, or no thing?

usticois [ think it is some thing: are you of the same
and = opinion?! Prot.—Yes. Sokr.—Now this thing which
hol 1 How you call justice: is it itself just or unjust? I should
st say that it was just: what do you say?? Prot.—I
holiness! think so too. Sokr.—Holiness also is some thing is
protests the thing called holiness, itself holy or unholy? As
for me, if any one were to ask me the question, I
eth should reply—Of course it is: nothing else can well
"be holy, if holiness itself be not holy. Would you

say the same? Prot.—Unquestionably. ‘Sokr.—Justice being
admitted to be just, and holiness to be holy—do not you think
that justice also is holy, and that holiness is just? If so, how
can you reconcile that with your former declaration, that no one
of the parts of virtue is like any other part? Prot.—I do not
altogether admit that justice is holy, and that holiness is just.
But the matter is of little moment: if you please, let both of
them stand as admitted. Sokr.—Not so:* I do not want the
debate to turn upon an “If you please”: You and I are the
debaters, and we shall determine the debate best without “ Ifs ”.
Prot.—I say then that justice and holiness are indeed, in ἃ certain
way, like each other ; so also there is a point of analogy between
white and black,‘ hard and soft, and between many other things
which no one would pronounce to be like generally. Sokr.—Do
you think then that justice and holiness have only a small point
of analogy between them? /Prot.—Not exactly so: but I do not
concur with you when you declare that one is like the other.

4 Plato, Protag. p. 330 B. κοινῇ oxe- This passage seems intended to
Yopeba ποῖόν τι δ τῶν στον κα. illustrate the indifference of Protagoras
στον. πρῶτο ν μὲν τὸ τοιόνδε" ἡ δικαιο- for dialectic forms and strict accu pracy

ὕνη πρᾶγμά τί στιν; ἥ οὐδὲν πρᾶγμα; vie ‘oe e ἀκριβολ ογία « -
ἐμοὶ μὲν γὰρ δοκεῖ" τί δὲ σοί; "να τάς “distasteful to” rhe- -

2 Plato, Protag. p. 880 C. τοῦτο torical and practical men. Protagoras
πρᾶγμα ὃ ὠνομάσατε ἄρτι, ἢ δικαιοσύνη, i, made to exhibit himself as thi
αὐτὸ τοῦτο δίκαιόν ἐστιν ἢ ἄδικον ; the distinctions drawn by Sokrates too
ice, not worth atten to. Man

ra Sis shared

3 Plato, Protag. p.331C. εἰ γὰρ Bov- ni t
λει, ἔστω ἡμῖν καὶ δικαιοσύνη ὅσιον Kai of the contemporaries
ὁσιότης δίκαιον. My μοι, ἦν δ᾽ ἐγώ: this opinion. One p of our

οὐδὲν γὰρ δέομαι τὸ ‘ei βούλει" τοῦτο dialogue is to bring su antitheses
καὶ “εἴ σοι δοκεῖ" ἐλέγχεσθαι, add’ into view.
ἐμέ τε καὶ σέ. 4 Ῥ]αί. Prot. p. 331 D.

CuHap. XXII. JUSTICE AND HOLINESS. 279

Sokr.—Well then! since you seem to follow with some repug-
nance this line of argument, let us enter upon another.?

Sokrates then attempts to show that intelligence and modera-
tion are identical with each other (σοφία and σωφρο-

Intelligence
ovvn). The proof which he produces, elicited by and mode-
several questions, is—that both the one and the other identical
are contrary to folly (ἀφροσύνη), and, that as a toy how ϑ
general rule, nothing can have more than one single the same

contrary.”

Sokrates thus seems to himself to have made much progress in
proving all the names of different virtues to be names

of one and the same thing. Moderation and intelli- reasons
gence are shown to be the same: justice and holiness gio" PY.
had before been shown to be nearly the same:* He seldom

though we must recollect that this last pomt had not distinguish

been admitted by Protagoras. It must be confessed eatin
however that neither the one nor the other is proved of the same

by any conclusive reasons. In laying down the
maxim—that nothing can have more than one single contrary—
Plato seems to have forgotten that the same term may be used in
two different senses. Because the term folly (ἀφροσύνη), is used
sometimes to denote the opposite of moderation (σωφροσύνη),
sometimes the opposite of intelligence (codia), it does not follow
that moderation and intelligence are the same thing.‘ Nor does
he furnish more satisfactory proof of the other point, viz.: That
holiness and justice are the same, or as much alike as possible.
The intermediate position which is assumed to form the proof,
viz.: That holiness is holy, and that justice is just—is either
tautological, or unmeaning; and cannot serve as a real proof of
any thing. It is indeed so futile, that if it were found in the

1 Plat. Prot. p. 882 A. is superior to Plato is, in be far

2 Plat. Protag. p. 832.

3 Plato, Protag. p. 888 B. σχεδόν τι
ravrov ov.

4 Aristotle would probably have
avoided | such bad nee as t One

po po as ve already
remarked, vol. ii. p. 170) in which he

more careful to distinguish the different
meanings of the same word—ra πολ-
λαχῶς λεγόμενα. Plato rarely troubles
himself to notice such distinction, and
seems indeed generally unaware of it.

Θ cons ridicules Prodikus, who
tried to distinguish words apparently
synonymous.

280 PROTAGORAS. CuHap. XXIIL

mouth of Protagoras and not in that of Sokrates, commentators
would probably have cited it as an illustration of the futilities of
the Sophists. As yet therefore little has been done to elucidate
the important question to which Sokrates addresses himself—
What is the extent of analogy between the different virtues?
Are they at bottom one and the same thing under different
names? In what does the analogy or the sameness consist ?

But though little progress has been made in determining the
Protagoras uestion mooted by Sokrates, enough has been done
is purzied, to discompose and mortify Protagoras. The general
comesirri- tenor of the dialogue is, to depict this man, so elo-
tated. quent in popular and continuous exposition, as des-
titute of the analytical acumen requisite to meet cross-examina-
tion, and of promptitude for dealing with new aspects of the
case, on the very subjects which form the theme of his eloquence.
He finds himself brought round, by a series of short questions, to
ἃ conclusion which—whether conclusively proved or not—is
proved in a manner binding upon him, since he has admitted all
the antecedent premiases. He becomes dissatisfied with himeelf,
answers with increasing reluctance,’ and is at last so provoked as
to break out of the limite imposed upon a respondent.

Meanwhile Sokrates pursues his examination, with intent to
prove that justice (δικαιοσύνη) and moderation (cwdpo-
Pro- σύνη) are identical. Does a man who acts unjustly
favsher. conduct himself with moderation? I should be
His purpose ashamed (replies Protagoras) to answer in the affir-
opinions § mative, though many people say so. Sokr.—It is
and not indifferent to me whether you yourself think so or
Protagoras not, provided only you consent to make answer.
with angry What I principally examine is the opinion itself:
prolixity. though it follows perhaps as a consequence, that I the
questioner, and the respondent along with me, undergo examina-
tion at the same time? You answer then (though without

1 Plato, Protag. pp. 333 B, 885 A. ἐρωτώμενον ἐξετάζεσθαι. .

2 Plato, Protee, ἘΡ 883 Ο. τὸν γὰρ Here _we find Plato dra
λόγον ἔγωγε μάλιστα ἐξετάζω, συμβαίνει special: attention to the conditions
μέντοι tows καὶ ἐμὲ τὸν ἐρωτῶντα καὶ τὸν ectic debate.

Cuap. XXIIL PROTAGORAS PUZZLED. 281

adopting the opinion) that men who act unjustly sometimes
behave with moderation, or with intelligence: that is, that
they follow a wise policy in committing injustice. Prot.—Be it
so. Sokr.—You admit too that there exist certain things called
good things. Are those things good, which are profitable to
mankind? Prot.—By Zeus, I call some things good, even
though they be not profitable to men (replies Protagoras, with
increasing acrimony).! Sokr.—Do you mean those things which
are not profitable to any man, or those which are not profitable
to any creature whatever? Do you call these latter good also?
Prot.—Not at all: but there are many things profitable to men,
yet unprofitable or hurtful to different animals. Good is of a
character exceedingly diversified and heterogeneous.?

Protagoras is represented as giving this answer at considerable
length, and in a rhetorical manner, so as to elicit pomon.
applause from the hearers.* Upon this Sokrates trance of
replies, “I am a man of short memory, and if any nst
one speaks at length, I forget what he has said. If 8s as
you wish me to follow you, I must entreat you to inconsistent
make shorter answers.” Prot.—What do you mean laws of
by asking me to make shorter answers? Do you Protagoras
mean shorter than the case requires? Sokr.—No, persists.
certainly not. Prof.—But who is to be judge of rises to
the brevity necessary, you or I? Sokr—I have ‘epatt.
understood that you profess to be master and teacher both of
long speech and of short speech: what I beg is, that you will
employ only short speech, if you expect me to follow you. Prot.
—Why, Sokrates, I have carried on many debates in my time ;
and if, as you ask me now, I had always talked just as my

opponent wished, I should never have acquired any reputation “

at all. Sokr.—Be it so: in that case I must retire; for as to
long speaking, I am incompetent: I can neither make long
speeches, nor follow them.‘

1 Plato, Protag. p. 883 E. fat are diverse in the a enest degree ;
8 Plato, Protag. p. 834 B. Οὕτω δὲ called good because
ποικίλον τί ἐστι τὸ ἀγαθὸν καὶ παντο- they all contribute in some way to
δαπόν, &. human security, relief, comfo or
The explanation here given by prosperity. To one or other of these
Protagoras of good is the same as unt ends , in all its multifarious forms,
which is given by the historical is relative.
Sokrates in the Xenophontic 3 Plato, Protag. p. 884 D.
Memorabilia (iii. 8). Things called 4 Plato, Proto 88ὲ E, 885 A-C.

282 PROTAGORAS. CHap. XXIII.

Here Sokrates rises to depart ; but Kallias, the master of the
Interfer- house, detains him, and expresses an earnest wish that

ence of the debate may be continued. A promiscuous con-
Kallias to . .

et the versation ensues, in which most persons present take
cebate |, part. Alkibiades, as the champion of Sokrates, gives,
Promis- what seems really to be the key of the dialogue, when

versation. he says—Sokrates admits that he has no capacity for
Αὐτὰ long speaking, and that he is no match therein for
that Pro- §Protagoras. But as to dialectic debate, or administer-
oth to ac- ing and resisting cross-examination, I should be sur-
knowledge prised if any one were a match for him. If Prota-
of Sokrates goras admits that on this point he is inferior, Sokrates
in dialogue. requires no more: if he does not, let him continue
the debate: but he must not lengthen his answers so that hearers
lose the thread of the subject.”

This remark of Alkibiades, speaking altogether as a vehement
Claim of a partisan of Sokrates, brings to view at least one pur-

ial Locus pose—if not the main purpose—of Plato in the dia-
professor- logue. ‘“Sokrates acknowledges the superiority of
ship [0.Σ Protagoras in rhetoric: if Protagoras acknowledges
apart from the superiority of Sokrates in dialectic, Sokrates is
Bhetoric. —gatisfied.” An express locus stands is here claimed for
dialectic, and a recognised superiority for its professors on their
own ground. Protagoras professes to be master both of long
speech and of short speech : but in the last he must recognise a
superior.

Kritias, Prodikus, and Hippias all speak (each in a manner of
Sokrates is his own) deprecating marked partisanship on either
prevailed side, exhorting both parties to moderation, and insist-
a etince, ing that the conversation shall be continued. At
Drotagoras length Sokrates consents to remain, yet on condition
to ques- that Protagoras shall confine himself within the limits
tion him. of the dialectic procedure. Protagoras (he says) shall
first question me as long as he pleases: when he has finished,
I will question him. The Sophist, though at first reluctant, is
constrained, by the instance of those around, to accede to this

proposition.”

1 Plat. Prot. p. 386 C-D. 3 Plat. Prot. pp. 887-888.

CuaP. XXIII. DEBATE INTERRUPTED, BUT RESUMED. 283

For the purpose of questioning, Protagoras selects a song of
Simonides: prefacing it with a remark, that the most Pprotagoras
important accomplishment of a cultivated man con- extols the |
sists in being thorough master of the works of the of Knowing
poets, so as to understand and appreciate them cor- of the poets,
rectly, and answer all questions respecting them.’ RO Trent
Sokrates intimates that he knows and admires the parts ofa
song : upon which Protagoras proceeds to point out simonides
two passages in it which contradict each other, and Dissenting
asks how Sokrates can explain or justify such contra- about the
diction. The latter is at first embarrassed, and in- tion of
vokes the aid of Prodikus ; who interferes to uphold the song.
the consistency of his fellow-citizen Simonides, but is made to
speak (as elsewhere by Plato) in a stupid and ridiculous manner.
After a desultory string of remarks,’ with disputed interpretation
of particular phrases and passages of the song, but without pro-
mise of any result—Sokrates offers to give an exposition of the
general purpose of the whole song, in order that the company
may see how far he has advanced in that accomplishment which
Protagoras had so emphatically extolled—complete mastery of
the works of the poets.‘

He then proceeds to deliver a long harangue, the commence-
ment of which appears to be a sort of counter-part and Long speech
parody of the first speech delivered by Protagoras in of Sokrates.
this dialogue. That Sophist had represented that fhe purpose ,
the sophistical art was ancient :° and that the poets, of the song,
from Homer downward, were Sophista, but dreaded down an ifo-
the odium of the name, and professed a different nical theory
avocation with another title. Sokrates here tells us numerous
that philosophy was more ancient still in Krete and sophists at
Sparta, and that there were more Sophists (he does guarts mas-
not distinguish between the Sophist and the philoso- ters of short
pher), female as well as male, in those regions, than
anywhere else: but that they concealed their name and profes-
sion, for fear that others should copy them and acquire the like

1 Plat. Prot. p. 889 A. ἡγοῦμαι ἐγὼ 4Plat. Prot. p. 42 A. εἰ βούλει
ἀνδρὶ παιδείας μέγιστον μέρος εἶναι, περὶ λαβεῖν pou πεῖραν ὅπως ἔχω, ὃ σὺ λέγεις
ἐπὰν δεινὸν « μαι. 8390 Ὁ τοῦτο, περὶ ἐπῶν.

3 Prot. p. -D.

3 Plat, Prot. pp. 840. 841. © Plat. Prot. pp. 316-317

284 PROTAGORAS. Cap. XXDL

eminence :! that they pretended to devote themselves altogether
to arms and gymnastic—a pretence whereby (he says) all the
other Greeks were really deluded. The special characteristic of
these philosophers or Sophists was, short and emphatic speech—
epigram shot in at the seasonable moment, and thoroughly pros-
trating an opponent.* The Seven Wise Men, among whom
Pittakus was one, were philosophers on this type, of supreme
excellence: which they showed by inscribing their memorable
brief aphorisms at Delphi. So great was the celebrity which
Pittakus acquired by his aphorism, that Simonides the poet
became jealous, and composed this song altogether for the pur-
pose of discrediting him. Having stated this general view,
Sokrates illustrates it by going through the song, with exposition
and criticism of several different passages. As soon as Sokrates
has concluded, Hippias* compliments him, and says that he
too has a lecture ready prepared on the same song: which he
would willingly deliver : but Alkibiades and the rest beg him to
postpone it.
No remark is made by any one present, either upon the cir-
terot Cumstance that Sokrates, after protesting against long
this speech speeches, has here delivered one longer by far than
ee conne- the first speech of Protagoras, and more than half as
the dia- long as the second, which contains a large theory—
its general nor upon: the sort of interpretation that he bestows
ΒΟΡΟΙΘ upon the Simonidean song. That interpretation is so
inferiorto strange and forced—so violent in distorting the mean-
Protageras ing of the poet—so evidently predetermined by the
ous speech. resolution to find Platonic metaphysics in a lyric
effusion addressed to a Thessalian prince °—that if such an } EXpo-

1 Plat. Prot. p. 342. did not intend them to bear.

3 Plat. Prot. p. 842 E, 848 B-C. Ὅτι ΕΣ orf in his note on the Lysis (1. c.)
οὗτος ὁ τρόπος ἦν τῶν παλαιῶν τῆς φιλο- oObserves—‘ Videlicet, ut exeat sen
σοφίας, βραχνλογία τις Λακωνική. tia, quam Solon ne somniavit quidem,

Plat. Frot. Pp. ou 847. versuum horum structuram, negiecto

4 Plat. lané sermonis usu, hanc statuit.—

5 Eepociall t Bien explanation of ἐι of ἑκὼν Pajusmodi interpretationis aliud est
ἐρδῇ (p. 345 D.). Heyne (Opuscula luculentum exemplum in Alcib. ii. p.

160 ‘remarks upon the strange ‘in: 147 Ὁ."
terpretation given Sokrates of the See also Heindorf's notes on the
Simonidean song "Eotnare Plato in Charmidés, p. 163 B; Lachés, p. 191
Lysis. p. 212 Ke ‘and in Alkib. ii. p. B; and Lysis, p. 214 Ὁ.

147 D. In both these δα μὴ Sokrates M. Boockh observes (ad Pindar.
cites passages of to Isthm. v. - 28) ting an allusion
them a sense WwW. ich their authors made by to Heai

Cuap. XXIIL INTERPRETATION OF THE POETS. 285

sition had been found under the name of Protagoras, critics
would have dwelt upon it as an additional proof of dishonest
perversions by the Sophists.: It appears as if Plato, intending in
this dialogue to set out the contrast between long or continuous
speech (sophistical, rhetorical, poetical) represented by Prota-
goras, and short, interrogatory speech (dialectical) represented
by Sokrates—having moreover composed for Protagoras in the
earlier part of the dialogue, an harangue claiming venerable
antiquity for his own accomplishment—has thought it right to
compose for Sokrates a pleading with like purpose, to put the
two accomplishments on a par. And if that pleading includes
both pointless irony and misplaced comparisons (especially what
is said about the Spartans)—we must remember that Sokrates
has expressly renounced all competition with Protagoras in
continuous speech, and that he is here handling the weapon
in which he is confessedly inferior. Plato secures a decisive
triumph to dialectic, and to Sokrates as representing it: but he
seems content here to leave Sokrates on the lower ground as a
rhetorician.

Moreover, when Sokrates intends to show himself off as a
master of poetical lore (περὶ ἐπῶν δεινὸς), he at the gorrates
same time claims a right of interpreting the poets in depreciates '
his own way. He considers the poets either as per- debates on
sons divinely inspired, who speak fine things without ΤῊ
rational understanding (we have seen this in the meaning is
Apology and the Ion)—or as men of superior wisdom, puted, and
who deliver valuable truth lying beneath the surface, YOU"
and not discernible by vulgar eyes. Both these views from them-
differ from that of literal interpretation, which is here jt is. Pro-
represented by Protagoras and Prodikus. And these *80ras con-
two Sophists are here contrasted with Sokrates as in- luctantly to
terpreters of the poets. Protagoras and Prodikus task of ane
look upon poetical compositions as sources of instruc- *Wering.

*“‘Num malé intellexit poeta intelli. Boeckh. Groen van Prinsterer gives

gentissimus icua verba Hesiodi? a similar opinion. (Prosopographia
on credo: sed bene sciens, consulto Platonica, B17.)

alium sensum intulit, suo consilio ac- 1K. F. Hermann observes (Gesch.
commodatam! Simileexemplum offert der Plat. Philos. p. 460) that Sokrates,
gravissimus auctor Plato Theetet. p. in his interpretation of the Simonidean
155 Ὁ." Stallbaum in his note on the song, shows that he can play the So-
Thestétus adoptéd this remark of phist as well as other people can.

286 PROTAGORAS. παρ. XXIIL.

tion: and seek to interpret them literally, as an intelligent
hearer would have understood them when they were sung or
recited for the first time. Towards that end, discrimination of
the usual or grammatical meaning of words was indispensable.
Sokrates, on the contrary, disregards the literal interpretation,
derides verbal distinctions as useless, or twists them into har-
mony with his own purpose: Simonides and other poeta are
considered as superior men, and even as inspired men—in whose
verses wisdom and virtue must be embodied and discoverable 1---
only that they are given in an obscure and enigmatical manner :
requiring to be extracted by the divination of the philosopher,
who alone knows what wisdom and virtue are. It is for the
philosopher to show his ingenuity by detecting the traces of
them. This is what Sokrates does with the song of Simonides.
He discovers in it supposed underlying thoughts (ὑπονοίας) : 3
distinctions of Platonic Metaphysics (between εἶναι and γενέσθαι),
and principles of Platonic Ethics (οὐδεὶς ἔκων xaxds)—he proceeds
to point out passages in which they are to be found, and explains
the song conformably to them, in spite of much violence to the
obvious meaning and verbal structure.® But though Sokrates
accepts, when required, the task of discussing what is said by the
poets, and deals with them according to his own point of view—
yet he presently lets us Bee that they are witnesses called into

Phedras, Ὁ 245 A-B; sensu non ferendum videtur. Atque

Apol-p BO: Ion, pp. factum est, omni

Compare the the distinetion des drawn in iis, qui pro sacris habiti sunt.”

Timeeus, p. 72 A-B, between the μάντις i jon was similar ® cha-
and the =, marked

. in re-

᾿ιΑθοαὶ πόνοιαι ascribed tothe spect of earnest anti >

see Repub. fi. p. 878 D.; Xen. between the different schools or the

ympos. iii. 6; and F. A. Wolf, 'Prole- dows in Alexandria and Palestine estine about
gom. Homer. Ὁ. clxii.-clxiv. the interpretation of the Pentateuch.

. A. Wo remarks, respecting the L Those who interpreted i , κατὰ
various allegorical interpretations οἱ τὴν διάνοιαν. 2 ‘Fhose who set
Homer and o Greek aside literal interpretation, and om

τ ca Bed anagogicn semis sive allago- plained the text upon a philosophy ot
eir o e
diderun: ve ab aliis duntaxat credi Geusebi . Ἐν. viii. 1
voluerunt, idonea deest excusatio, Ita Sone ted both Doe ae
ο comparata est , ut libris, tations, side by side.
annis

Lonimun ergo atone wie. απὸ andr, Theosophie, vol. i. pp. 84-86, ii. p.
60 Οἵ-

' namus interprets’ quiguatd proprio at Pit. Prot. p. 84§.

Cnap. XXIIL POETS DELIVER WISDOM WITHOUT KNOWING IT. 287
court by his opponent and-not by himself. Alkibiades urges
that the debate which had been interrupted shall be resumed
and Sokrates himself requests Protagoras to consent. “ΤῸ
debate about the compositions of poets” (says Sokrates), “is to
proceed as silly and common-place men do at their banquets :
where they cannot pass the time without hiring musical or
dancing girls. Noble and well-educated guests, on the contrary,
can find enough to interest them in their own conversation, even
if they drink ever so much wine.! Men such as we are, do not
require to be amused by singers—nor to talk about the poets,
whom no one can ask what they mean ; and who, when cited by
different speakers, are affirmed by one to mean one thing, and
by another to mean something else, without any decisive autho-
rity to appeal to. Such men as you and I ought to lay aside the
poets, and test each other by colloquy of our own. If you wish
to persist in questioning, I am ready to answer: if not, con-
sent to answer me, and let us bring the interrupted debate to a
close.” 2

In spite of this appeal, Protagoras is still unwilling to resume,
and is only forced to do so by a stinging taunt from Purpose of
Alkibiades, enforced by requests from Kallias and Sokrates to
others. He is depicted as afraid of Sokrates, who, as re diffical-
soon as consent is given, recommences the discussion be reall
by saying—“ Do not think, Protagoras, that I have
any other purpose in debating, except to sift through
and through, in conjunction with you, difficulties
which puzzle my own mind. Two of us together can
do more in this way than any one singly.*

1 Plato, Prot. p. 847 Dx κἂν πάνν
πολὺν οἶνον πίωσιν-- phrase which
will be found suitably illustrated by

rsistent dialectic of Sokrates,
even at the close of the Platonic Sym-
posion, after he has swallowed an in-
credib e uantity of wine.

3 Plat. p. 847-348. This re-

ἣ ἃ αὐτὸς ἀπορῶ, ἑκάστοτε ταῦτα δια-

σκέψα αι.

e remark here given should be
carefully noted in ap reciating the
Sokratic frame of mind. The cross-
examination which he bestows, is not
that of one who himself knows—and
who only gets up artificial difficulties

t. p
mark —that the poet may beinterpreted to

in many different ways, and that you
cannot produce him in court to declare
signifi regard

by Sokrates on living conversation and

3 Plat. Prot. Ὁ. 38 C. μὴ ofov
διαλέγεσθαι μέ σοι ἄλλο τι βονλόμενον

ascertain whether others know as
much as he does. On the contrary, it
proceeds from one who is himself
pu uzzled ; and that which puzzles him
6 states to others, and debates with
others, as affording the best chance of
clearing up his own ideas and obtain-
8, solution.
e grand purpose with Sokrates is

288 PROTAGORAS. Cuap. XXTIT_

“We are all more fertile and suggestive, with regard to
thought, word, and deed, when we act in couples. If a man
strikes out anything new by himself, he immediately goes about
looking for a companion to whom he can communicate it, and
with whom he can jointly review it. Moreover, you are the best
man that I know for this purpose, especially on the subject of
virtue: for you are not only virtuous yourself, but you can make
others so likewise, and you proclaim yourself a teacher of virtue
more publicly than any one has ever done before. Whom can I
find so competent as you, for questioning and communication on
these very subjects ?”?

After this eulogy on dialectic conversation (illustrating stil?
Theinter. ‘#tther the main purpose of the dialogue), Sokrates

Ἢ de- resumes the argument as it stood when interrupted.
resumed. Sokr.—You, Protagoras, said that intelligence, mode-
ryrifes vation, justice, holiness, courage, were all parts of

virtue ; but each different from the others, and each
materially having a separate essence and properties of its own.
from the. Do you still adhere to that opinion? Prot.—I now
branches think that the first four are tolerably like and akin
to each other, but that courage is very greatly
different from all the four. The proof is, that you will find
mahy men pre-eminent for courage, but thoroughly unjust,
unholy, intemperate, and stupid.? Sokr.—Do you consider that
all virtue, and each separate part of it, is fine and honourable?
Prot.—I consider it in the highest degree fine and honourable : I
must be mad to think otherwise.*

Sokrates then shows that the courageous men are confident
Sokretes § men, forward in dashing at dangers, which people in
general will not affront: that men who dive with
in confidence into the water, are those who know how to
knowledge sWim; men who go into battle with confidence as

argues to
prove that

to bring into clear daylight the diffi- διαφέρον πάντων τούτων.
culties which impede the construc- lato, Protag. p. 349 E. κάλλισ-
tion of philosophy or ‘reasoned τον μὲν οὖν, εἰ μὴ μαίνομαί ye. ὅλον
trath,” and to sift them thoroughly, που καλὸν ὡς οἷόν τε μάλιστα.
instead of slurring them over or hiding Itisnotunimportant to noticesuch de-
. clarations as this, put by Plato into the
1 Plato, Protag. pp. 848-849. mouth of Protagoras. They tend toshow
3 Plato, Protag. p. 349 Ὁ. τὰ μὲν that Plato did not seek (as many of his
rérr αὐτῶν ἐπιεικῶς παραπλήσια commentators do) to depict Protagoras
ἐς ἐστίν, ἡ δὲ ἀνδρεία πάνν πολὺ as a corruptor of the public mind.

Cuap. XXIIL DEBATE ABOUT PLEASURE AND GOOD. ᾿ς 989

horse-soldiers or light infantry, are those who under- oF intelli-
stand their profession as such. If any men embark Protagoras
in these dangers, without such preliminary know- gamit thia
ledge, do you consider them men of courage? Not at Sokrates
all (says Protagoras), they are madmen: courage his attack.
would be a dishonourable thing, if they were reckoned courageous.'
Then (replies Sokrates) upon this reasoning, those who face
dangers confidently, with preliminary knowledge, are courageous:
those who do so without it, are madmen. Courage therefore
must consist in knowledge or intelligence?? Protagoras declines
to admit this, drawing a distinction somewhat confused :3 upon
which Sokrates approaches the same argument from a different
int.
Ἐἰ Sokr—You say that some men live well, others badly. Do you
think that a man lives well if he lives in pain and 1dentity of
distress? Prot.—No. Sokr.—But if he passes his the plea-
life pleasurably until its close, does he not then the good—
appear to you to have lived well? Prot.—I think so. ?{,‘7¢p#!™
Sokr.—To live pleasurably therefore is good : to live the evil.
disagreeably is evil. Prot.—Yes: at least provided maintains
he lives taking pleasure in fine or honourable things. 'Frotago-
Sokr.—What ! do you concur with the generality of Debate.
people in calling some pleasurable things evil, and some painful
things good? Prot.—That is my opinion. Sokr.—But are not
all pleasurable things, so far forth as pleasurable, to that extent
good, unless some consequences of a different sort result. from
them? And again, subject to the like limitation, are not all
painful things evil, so far forth as they are painful? Prot.—To
that question, absolutely as you put it, I do not know whether I
can reply affirmatively—that all pleasurable things are good,
and all painful things evil. I think it safer—with reference not
merely to the present answer, but to my manner of life generally
—to say, that there are some pleasurable things which are good,
others which are not good—some painful things which are evil,
others which are not evil: again, some which are neither, neither

1 Plato, Protag. p. 850 B. Αἰσχρν 8 Plato, Protag Protag. pp. 850-85 ;

ann ἂν, ἔφη, εἴη, ἡ ἀνδρεία" ἐπεὶ οὗτοί eben en te ‘Prot. 1 C. ᾿ς μὲν ἄρα
ye gas nen εἰσιν. Gay, ay ν, τὸ δ᾽ ἀ ηδῶς, κακόν;
Plato, Protag. p. 350 C. . a τοῖς καλοῖς γ᾽, Edn, ἔζη 85 μενος.

2—19

290

PROTAGORAS.

Cuap. XXIII.

good nor evil! Sokr.—You call those things pleasurable, which
either partake of the nature of pleasure, or cause pleasure? Prot.
—Unquestionably. Sokr.—When I ask whether pleasurable
things are not good, in so far forth as pleasurable—I ask in other

words, whether pleasure itself

be not good? Prot.—As you

observed before, Sokrates,? let us examine the question on each
side, to see whether the pleasurable and the good be really the

same.

easure OF pain,
pain? ron
knowledge

1 Plato, Protag. p. 851 Ὁ. ἀλλά μοι
δοκεῖ ov μόνον πρὸς τὴν νῦν ἀπόκρισιν
ἐμοὶ ἀσφαλέστερον εἶναι ἀποκρίνασθαι,
ἀλλὰ καὶ πρὸς πάντα τὸν ἄλλον
βίον τὸν ἐμόν, ὅτι ἔστι μὲν ἃ τῶν
ἡδέων οὖκ ἔστιν ἀγαθά, ἔστι δ᾽ αὖ καὶ ἃ
τῶν ἀνιαρῶν οὐκ ἔστι κακά, ἔστι δ᾽ ἃ
dor, καὶ τρίτον ἃ οὐδέτερα, οὔτε κακὰ
ovr ἀγαθά.

These words strengthen farther what
I remarked in a recent note, about the
character which Plato wished to depict

, 80 different from what τὸ

in Protagoras
is imputed to that Sophist by the
Platonic commentators.

2 Plato, Protag. p. 351 EK. ὥσπε
σὺ λέγεις, ἑκάστοτε, ὦ Σώκρατες, σκοπώ-
μεθα αὐτό.

This is an allusion to the words
used by Sokrates not long before,—é

αὐτὸς ἀπορῶ τε ταῦτα διασκέ-

Ethics cites and criticises the opinion of

Sokr.—Let us penetrate from the surface to the interior of the
question.> What is your opinion about knowledge?
Do you share the opinion of mankind generally
about it, as you do about pleasure and pain? Man-
kind regard knowledge as something neither strong
nor directive nor dominant. Often (they say), when
knowledge is in a man, it is not knowledge which
governs him, but something else—passion, pleasure,
love, fear—all or any of which overpower
knowledge, and drag it round about in their train
like aslave. Are you of the common opinion on this

you believe that knowledge is

Sokrates, wherein the latter affirmed

ledge, when reall ssessed, over all

ions and Aristotle cites
t with the ress phraseology and
illustration contai in this passage

of the Protagoras. ᾿Ἐπιστάμενον μὲν
οὖν οὔ φασί τινες οἷόν τε εἶναι [ἀκρατεύ-
εσθαι]. δεινὸν γάρ, ἐπιστήμης ἐνούσης,
ὡς ᾧετο Σωκράτης, ἄλλο τι κρατεῖν, καὶ
περιέλκειν αὐτὴν ὥσπερ ἀνδράποδον.
Σωκράτης μὲν γὰρ ὅλως ἐμάχετο πρὸς

ν ¥, ὡς οὐκ οὔσης ἀκρασίας"

stotle comments upon the doctrine of
Sokrates, what he here means is, the
doctrine of the Platonic Sokrates in
the Protagoras; the citation of this
particular metaphor establishes the
dentity.

In another of the Nikom.
Eth., Aristotle also cites a fact

ing the Sophist Protagoras, which fact

Cap. XXIII. KNOWLEDGE DOMINANT. ᾿ς 99)

an honourable thing, and made to govern man: and that when
once a man knows what good and evil things are, he will not be
over-ruled by any other motive whatever, so as to do other
things than what are enjoined by such knowledge—his own
intelligence being a sufficient defence to him?! Prot.—The last
opinion is what I hold. To me, above all others, it would be
disgraceful not to proclaim that knowledge or intelligence was
the governing element of human affairs.

Sokr.—You speak well and truly. But you are aware that
most men are of a different opinion. They affirm jysare οἱ
that many who know what is best, act against their supposi
own knowledge, overcome by pleasure or by pain. act contrary
Prot.—Most men think so: incorrectly, in my judg- (0 Know-
ment, as they say many other things besides.? Sokr. never call
—When they say that a man, being overcome by food ‘leas except
or drink or other temptations, will do things which when they
he knows to be evil, we must ask them, On what preponde-
ground do you call these things evil? Is it because pain, oa oe
they impart pleasure at the moment, or because they disappoint-
prepare disease, poverty, and other such things, for greater
the future? Most men would reply, I think, that Ple*4re-
they called these things evil not on account of the present
pleasure which the things produced, but on account of their
ulterior consequences—poverty and disease being both of them
distressing? Prot.—Most men would say this. Sokr.—It would
be admitted then that these things were evil for no other reason,
than because they ended in pain and in privation of pleasure.‘
Prot.—Certainly. Sokr.—Again, when it is said that some good
things are painful, such things are meant as gymnastic exercises,
military expeditions, medical treatment. Now no one will say
that these things are good because of the immediate suffering
which they occasion, but because of the ulterior results of health,

is mentioned in the Platonic saner in αὑτὰ πῇ φατε εἶναι ; πότερον ὅτε τὴν

the mann ἡδονὴν ταύτην ἐν τῷ παραχρῆμα παρέ-

which that Sop owed his pu χει καὶ ἡδύ ἐστιν ἔοτον χρῆμα ΤῊΝ

- to assess their own fee for his techn εἰς τὸν ὕστερον χρόνον νόσους Te ποιεῖ
(Ethic. fo, rota 1164, a. δ. καὶ πενίας καὶ ἄλλα τοιαῦτα πολλὰ παρα-

1 Plato, 852 5 nein
ixavhy εἶναι τὴν ρόνησιν aeciy ΑΝ τῷ to, Protag. τῇ 8538 EK. Οὐκοῦν
ἀνθ ore | Protag. iveras. “ἰδ ν ἄλλο ταῦτα κακὰ
pp. 852-853. ovra, 7 ἰότι, ὡς ἀνίας τε ἀποτελευτᾷ
3 Plato, Protag. Ὁ. 853 ἢ. πονηρὰ δὲ καὶ ἄλλων ἡδονῶν ἀποστερεῖ;

292 PROTAGORAS. Cuap. XXII.

wealth, and security, which we obtain by them. Thus, these
also are good for no other reason, than because they end im
pleasures, or in relief or prevention of pain.' Or can you
indicate any other end, to which men look when they call these
matters evil? Prot.—No other end can be indicated.

Sokr.—It thus appears that you pursue pleasure as good, and
avoid pain as evil. Pleasure is what you think good:

theunly is pain is what you think evil: for even pleasure itself .
at appears to you evil, when it either deprives you of |
evil. No pleasures greater than itself, or entails upon you pains
man does outweighing itself. Is there any other reason, or any
farily, it other ulterior end, to which you look when you pro-
to be e nounce pleasure to be evil? If there be any. other
Difference reason, or any other end, tell us what it 18.2 Prot.—
pleasures There is none whatever. Sokr.—The case is similar
ture— § about pains: you call pain good, when it preserves
ea you from greater pains, or procures for you a future
Bod pain balance of pleasure. If there be any other end to

which you look when you call pain good, tell us what —
‘it is, Prot.—You speak truly. Sokr.—If I am asked why I

insist 30 much on the topic now before us, I shall reply, that it is.
no easy matter to explain what is meant by being overcome by
pleasure ; and that the whole proof hinges upon this point—
whether there is ary other good than pleasure, or any other evil
than pain ; and whether it be not sufficient, that we should go
through life pleasurably and without pains.* If this be sufficient,
and if no other good or evil can be pointed out, which does not
end in pleasures and pains, mark the consequences. Good and
evil being identical with pleasurable and painful, it is ridiculous
to say that a man does evil voluntarily, knowing it to be evil,
under the overpowering influence of pleasure: that is, under the

to, Protag. p. 854 B-C, Ταῦτα
δὲ nary ἔστι be Lavy τι ἣ ὅτι εἰς ἡδονὰς
ἀποτελεντᾷ καὶ λυπῶν ἀπαλλαγὰς καὶ
ἀποτροπάς ; ἣ ἔχετέ τι ἄλλο τέλος λέγειν,
εἰς ὃ ἀποβλέψαντες αὑτὰ ἀγαθὰ καλεῖτε,
ἀλλ᾽ ἢ ἡδονάς τε καὶ λύπας ; οὐκ ἂν φαῖεν,
μαι. . - Οὐκοῦν τὴν μὲν ἡδονὴν
Saetre ὡς ἀγαθὸν ὅ Ov, τὴν δὲ λύπην φεύ-
γετε ὡς κακόν ;
3 Plato, Protag. Ῥ. 854 Ὁ. ἐπεὶ εἰ
κατ᾽ ἄλλο τι αὐτὸ τὸ χαίρειν κακὸν

καλεῖτε καὶ εἰς “ἄλλο τε τέλος ἀποβλέ-
ψαντες, ἔχοιτε ἄν καὶ ἡμῖν εἰπεῖν" ἀλλ᾽
ὑδ᾽ ἐμοὶ δοκοῦσιν, ἔφη ὃ

3 Plato, Protag. p. 364 Ἑ. ἔπειτα
ἐν τούτῳ εἰσὶ πᾶσαι ai ἀποδείξεις - ἀλλ᾽

ἔτι καὶ νῦν σθαι ἔξεστιν, εἰ ih
ἔχετε ἄλλο τι Pavan ¢ a τὸ
ἣ τὴν ἡδονήν, ἥ τὸ τὸ xaxdy ἄλλο τι ἡ “τὴν

aviay, ἢ ἀρκεῖ ὑμῖν τὸ ἡδέως καταβιῶναι

τὸν βίον ἄνευ λνπῶν ;
4.

CuaPp. XXIII. PLEASURE THE GOOD, PAIN THE EVIL. 293

overpowering influence of good.! How can it be wrong, that a
man should yield to the influence of good? It never can be
wrong, except in this case—when the good obtained is of smaller
amount than the consequent good forfeited or the consequent
evil entailed. What other exchangeable value can there be
between pleasures and pains, except in the ratio of quantity—
greater or less, more or fewer?? If an objector tells me that
there is a material difference between pleasures and pains of the
moment, and pleasures and pains postponed to a future time, I
ask him in reply, Is there any other difference, except in pleasure
and pain? An intelligent man ought to put them both in the
scale, the pleasures and the pains, the present and the future, so
as to determine the balance. Weighing pleasures against plea-
sures, he ought to prefer the more and the greater: weighing
. pains against pains, the fewer and the less. If pleasures against
pains, then when the latter outweigh the former, reckoning
distant as well as near, he ought to abstain from the act: when
the pleasures outweigh, he ought to doit. Prot.—The objectors
could have nothing to say against this.®

Sokr.—Well then—I shall tell them farther—you know that
the same magnitude, and the same voice, appears to ον
you greater when near than when distant. Now, if reso sort to the
all our well-doing depended upon our choosing the 51 for ©
magnitudes really greater and avoiding those really choosing
less, where would the security of our life be found? rightiy—an
In the art of mensuration, or in the apparent impres- δὲ our lives
sion?* Would not the latter lead us astray, causing depends
us to vacillate and judge badly in our choice between
great and little, with frequent repentance afterwards? Would
not the art of mensuration set aside these false appearances, and
by revealing to us the truth, impart tranquillity to our minds and
security to our lives? Would not the objectors themselves

1 Plato, Protag. p . 858 Ὁ. ἐν τούτῳ ἡμῖν ἦν τὸ εὖ πράττειν, ἐν τῷ
3 Plato, Protag. p 356 A. καὶ τίς τὰ μὲν μεγάλα μήκη καὶ πράττειν καὶ
ἄλλη ὁ ἀξία ἡδονῇ πρὸς λύπην ἐστὶν ἀλλ᾽ λαμβάνειν, τὰ δὲ σμικρὰ καὶ φεύγειν καὶ
; ρβολὴ λων καὶ ἔλλειψις; μὴ πράττειν τίς ἂν ἡμῖν σωτηρία ἐφάνη
ταῦτα τὰ δ' ἐστὶ μείζω τε καὶ σμικρότερα τοῦ βίου; dpa ἡ μετ τέχνῃ, ἣ ε
γιγνόμενα ἀλλήλων, καὶ πλείω καὶ ἐλάτ- τοῦ φαινομένου Svveues: . *Ap’ ἃ
τω, Kat μᾶλλον καὶ ἧττον. eat an οἱ ἄνθρωποι πρὸς ταῦτα ἡμᾶς
8 Plato, Protag. p. 356 C. ν μετρητικὴν σώζειν ἂν τέχνην, ἣ

4 Plato, Protag. p. 356 Ὁ. εἰ οὖν ἄλλην;

----

291 PROTAGORAS. Cuap. XXIII.

acknowledge that there was no other safety, except in the art of
mensuration?. Prot.—They would acknowledgeit. Sokr.—Again,
If the good conduct of our lives depended on the choice of odd and
even, and in distinguishing rightly the greater from the less,
whether far or near, would not our safety reside in knowledge,
and in a certain knowledge of mensuration too, in Arithmetic ?
Prot.—They would concede to you that also. Sokr.—Well then,
my friends, since the security of our lives has been found to
depend on the right choice of pleasure and pain—between the
more and fewer, greater and less, nearer and farther—does it not
come to a simple estimate of excess, deficiency, and equality
between them? in other words, to mensuration, art, or science?!
What kind of art or science it is, we will enquire another time :
for the purpose of our argument, enough has been done when we
have shown that it ts science.

For when we (Protagoras and Sokrates) affirmed, that nothing
To do was more powerful than science or knowledge, and
δώλμα. ἢ that this, in whatsoever minds it existed, prevailed
by pleasure; over pleasure and every thing else—you (the supposed
phrase for Objectors) maintained, on the contrary, that pleasure

ibing often prevailed over knowledge even in the instructed
really ἃ man: and you called upon us to explain, upon our
svavcigno- principles, what that mental affection was, which
Tance. people called, being overcome by the seduction of
pleasure. We have now shown you that this mental affection is
nothing else but ignorance, and the gravest ignorance. You have
admitted that those who go wrong in the choice of pleasures and
pains—that is, in the choice of good and evil things—go wrong
from want of knowledge, of the knowledge or science of mensura-
tion. The wrong deed done from want of knowledge, is done
through ignorance. What you call being overcome by pleasure
is thus, the gravest ignorance ; which these Sophists, Protagoras,
Prodikus, and Hippias, engage to cure: but you (the objectors
whom we now address) not believing it to be ignorance, or

1 Plato, Protag. p. 357 A-B_ ἐπειδὴ ποῤῥωτέρω καὶ dpe πρῶτον μὲν
δὲ ἠδονῆς τε καὶ λύπης ἐν ὀρθῇ τῇ ἢ αἱρέσει οὗ μετρητικὴ era bacppakie re
ἐφάνη ἡμῖν καὶ σωτηρία τοῦ βίον ἐνδείας οὖσα καὶ ἰσότητος τρὸς «
οὖσα, τοῦ τε πλέονος καὶ ἐλάτ- σκέψις; ᾿Αλλ᾽ ἀνάγκη. ᾿Επεὶ δὲ perpy-
TOPOS καὶ μείζονος καὶ σμικροτέρον καὶ τική, ἀνάγκῃ δήπον τέχνῃ καὶ ἐπιστήμη.

παρ. XXIII RIGHT CHOICE OF PLEASURE AND PAIN. 295

perhaps unwilling to pay them their fees, refuse to visit them,
and therefore go on doing ill, both privately and publicly.’

Now then, Protagoras, Prodikus, and Hippias (continues
Sokrates), I turn to you, and ask, whether you Reasoning
account my reasoning true or false? (All of them οἵ Sokrates
pronounced it to be surpassingly true.) Sokr.—You to by all
agree, then, all three, that the pleasurable is good, which con-
and that the painful is evil:? for I take no account duct to
at present of the verbal distinctions of Prodikus, dis-
criminating between the pleasurable, the delightful, are from pain,
and the enjoyable. If this be so, are not all those ®ble.
actions, which conduct to a life of pleasure or to a life free from
pain, honourable? and is not the honourable deed, good and
profitable ?3 (In this, all persons present concurred.) If then
the pleasurable is good, no one ever does anything, when he
either knows or believes other things in his power to be better.
To be inferior to yourself is nothing else than ignorance: to be
superior to yourself, is nothing else than wisdom. Ignorance
~ consists in holding false opinions, and in being deceived respect-
ing matters of high importance. (Agreed by all.) Accordingly,
no one willingly enters upon courses which are evil, or which he
believes to be evil: nor is it in the nature of man to enter upon
what he thinks evil courses, in preference to good. When a man
is compelled to make choice between two evils, no one will take
the greater when he might take the less.‘ (Agreed to by all
three.) Farther, no one will affront things of which he is afraid,
when other things are open to him, of which he is not afraid :
for fear is an expectation of evil, so that what a man fears, he of
course thinks to be an evil,—and will not approach it willingly.
(Agreed.)?

Sokr.—Let us now revert to the explanation of courage, given
by Protagoras. He said that four out of the five parts Explana-

tion of

of virtue were tolerably similar ; but that courage courage.

1 Plato, Protag. p. 857 E. lato, Protag. p. 858 C-D. ἐπί ye
3 Plato, Protag. P. 358 A. ὑπερφνῶς ra cand οὐδεὶς. ee i χεται, οὐδὲ ἐπὶ
ἀδόκει ἅπασιν ἊΝ ἶνας χὰ ᾿ αἰρημένα. ἃ οἴεται κακὰ εἶναι, aah ἐστὶ τοῦτο, ὡς
ὋὉμολογεῖτε ἄρα, ἦν τὸ μὲν ἠδὺ ἔοικεν, ἐν ἀνθρώπον φύσει, ἐπὶ ἃ οἴεται
ἀγαθὸν « εἶναι τὸ δὲ ἀνιορῦ κακόν. κακὰ «ἶναι ἐθέλειν ἰέναι ἀντὶ τῶν ἀγαθῶν"
“Ῥσοίδα 868 Β. αἱ ἐπὶ ὅταν τε τε ἀναγκάσθῃ δνοῖν κακοῖν τὸ ὅτερον
rote ὄπ πράξεις ἀξ οἷς ἐπὶ τοῦ ἀλύπως αἱ by οὐδεὶς τὸ μεῖζον αἱρήσεται,
giv καὶ ἡ ἕως, ap’ ov καλαί; καὶ τὸ καλὸν ike τὸ thervo
ργον, ἀγαθόν re καὶ ὠφέλιμον; 5 Plato, Protas. p. 868 E.

296 PROTAGORBAS. CHap. XXIIL

Tt consists differed greatly from all of them. And he affirmed
estimate that there were men distinguished for courage ; yet
of things at the same time eminently unjust, immoderate,
and not unholy, and stupid. He said, too, that the coura-
terrible. = geous men were men to attempt things which timid
men would not approach. Now, Protagoras,‘ what are these
things which the courageous men alone are prepared to attempt?
. Will they attempt terrible things, believing them to be
terrible? Prot.—That is impossible, as you have shown just
now. Sokr.—No one will enter upon that which he believes to
be terrible,—or, in other words, will go into evil knowing it to
be evil: a man who does so is inferior to himself—and this, as
we have agreed, is ignorance, or the contrary of knowledge. All
men, both timid.and brave, attempt things upon which they have
a good heart: in this respect, the things which the timid and the
brave go at, are the same.’ Prot.—How can this be? The
things which the timid and the brave go at or affront, are quite
contrary: for example, the latter are willing to go to war, which
the former are not. Sokr.—Is it honourable to go to war, or dis-
honourable? Prot.—Honourable. Sokr.—If it be honourable, it
must also be good :? for we have agreed, in the preceding debate,
that all honourable things were good. Prot.—You speak truly.*
I at least always persist in thinking so. Sokr.—Which of the
two is it, who (you say) are unwilling to go into war; it being
an honourable and good thing? Prot.—The cowards. Sokr.—
But if going to war be an honourable and good thing, it is also
pleasurable? Prot.—Certainly that has been admitted.‘ Sokr.
—Is it then knowingly that cowards refuse to go into war, which |
is both more honourable, better, and more pleasurable? Prot.—
We cannot say so, without contradicting our preceding admissions.
Sokr.—What about the courageous man? does not he affront or

1 Plato, Protag. p. 359 Ὁ. ἐπὶ μὲν προσθεν" ras yap καλὰς πράξεις ἁπάσας
ἃ δεινὰ ἡγεῖται εἶναι οὐδεὶς ἔρχεται, ἀγαθὰς ὡμολογήσαμεν;
ἐπειδὴ τὸ ἥττω εἶναι ἑαυτοῦ εὐρέθη 3 Plato, Protag. p. 869 E. ᾿Αληθῆ
ἀμαθία οὖσα. Ὡμολόγει. ᾿Αλλὰ μὴν λέγεις, καὶ ἀεὶ ἔμοιγε δοκεῖ οὕτως.
ἐπὶ ἃ γε θαῤῥοῦσι πάντες αὖ ἔρχονται, This answer, put into the mouth of
καὶ δειλοὶ καὶ ἀνδρεῖοι, καὶ ταύτῃ γε Protagoras, affords another proof
ἐπὶ τὰ αὑτὰ ἔρχονται ot δειλοί τε καὶ οἱ Plato did not intend to impute to him
ἀνδρεῖοι. the character which many commenta-

Plato, Protag. p. 359 E. πότερον tors impute.

καλὸν ὃν ἰέναι (eis τὸν πόλεμον) ἣ aicx- 4 Plato, Protag. p. 860 A. Οὐκοῦν,
pov; Καλόν, ἔφη. Οὐκοῦν, εἴπερ καλόν, ἦν δ᾽ ἐγώ, εἴπερ καλὸν καὶ ἀγαθόν, καὶ
καὶ ἀγαθὸν ὡμολογήσαμεν ἐν τοῖς ἔμ- nop; Ὡμολόγηται γοῦν, ἔφη.

Caap. XXIII. COURAGE AS RIGHT ESTIMATE. 297

go at what is more honourable, better, and more pleasurable ἢ
Prot.—It cannot be denied. Sokr.—Courageous men then,
generally, are those whose fears, when they are afraid, are
honourable and good—not dishonourable or bad: and whose
confidence, when they feel confident, is also honourable and
good ?? On the contrary, cowards, impudent men, and madmen,
both fear, and feel confidence, on dishonourable occasions?
Prot.—Agreed. Sokr.—When they thus view with confidence
things dishonourable and evil, is it from any other reason than
from ignorance and stupidity? Are they not cowards from
stupidity, or a stupid estimate of things terrible? And is it not
in this ignorance, or stupid estimate of things terrible, and
things not terrible—that cowardice consists? Lastly,?—courage
being the opposite of cowardice—is it not in the knowledge, or
wise estimate, of things terrible and things not terrible, that
courage consists ?

Protagoras is described as answering the last few questions
with increasing reluctance. But at this final ques- poactance
tion, he declines altogether to answer, or even to of Prota-
imply assent by a gesture.2 Sokr.—Why will you continue
not answer my question, either affirmatively or nega-
tively? Prot.—Finish the exposition by yourself. discussion.
Sokr.—I will only ask you one more question. Do clares that
you still think, as you said before, that there are some he subject
men extremely stupid, but extremely courageous? confusion
Prot.—You seem to be obstinately bent on making wishes to
me answer : I will therefore comply with your wish : ane it
I say that according to our previous admissions, it Protagoras.
appears to me impossible. Sokr.—I have no other woly ot
motive for questioning you thus, except the wish to Protagoras
investigate how the truth stands respecting virtue and what
virtue is in itself.‘ To determine this, is the way to elucidate

1 Plato, Proteg. p. 860 B. Οὐκοῦν 8 Plato, Protag. p. 800 Ὁ. οὐκέτι

ὅλως οἱ ἀνδρεῖοι οὐκ αἰσχροὺς φόβους ἐνταῦθα οὔτ᾽ ἐπινεῦσαι ἠθέλησεν, ἐσίγα |

φοβοῦνται, ὅταν φοβῶνται, οὐδὲ αἰσχρὰ τε.
θάῤῥη θάῤῥοῦσιν; ... Εἰ δὲ μὴ αἰσχράέ,ΘἩ — «Plato, Protag. pp. 860-361. Οὔτοι
ap ov καλά; . . . Εἰ δὲ καλά, καὶ ἀγαθά; ἄλλον ἕνεκα ἃ πάντα ταῦτα, ἣ σκέ-.

τῶν δεινῶν καὶ ἀμαθία δειλία περὶ τῆς ἀρετῆς, καὶ τί ποτ᾽ ἐστὶν
ἂν εἴη; . . .
καὶ μὴ δεινῶν, ἀνδρεία ἐστίν, ἐναντία φανεροῦ γενομένον μάλιστ᾽ ἂν κατάδηλον

3 Plato, rm ag. Ρ 800 Ὁ. Οὐκοῦν ἡ ψασθαι βονλόμενος πῶς wor’ ἔχει τὰ
μ ινῶν "
Ἢ ood )
οὖσα τῇ τούτων ἀμαθίᾳ; «γένοιτο ἐκεῖνο, περὶ οὗ ἐγώ τε καὶ σὺ

ia ἄρα τῶν δεινῶν αὑτὸ καὶ ἀρετή. Οἶδα ὅτι τούτον

298 PROTAGORAS. Cauar. XXIIL

the question which you and I first debated at length :—I, affirm-
ing that virtue was not teachable—you, that it was teachable.
The issue of our conversation renders both of us ridiculous. For
I, who denied virtue to be teachable, have shown that it consists
altogether in knowledge, which is the most teachable of all
things: while Protagoras, who affirmed that it was teachable,
has tried to show that it consisted in every thing rather than
knowledge :—on which supposition it would be hardly teachable
atall. I therefore, seeing all these questions sadly confused and
turned upside down, am beyond measure anxious to clear them
up ;! and should be glad, conjointly with you, to go through the
whole investigation—First, what Virtue is,—Next, whether it is
teachable or not. It is with a provident anxiety for the conduct
of my own life that I undertake this research, and I should be
delighted to have you asa coadjutor.2 Prot.—I commend your
earnestness, Sokrates, and your manner of conducting discussion.
I think myself not a bad man in other respects: and as to jea-
lousy, I have as little of it as any one. For I have always said
of you, that I admire you much more than any man of my
acquaintance—decidedly more than any man of your own age.
It would not surprise me, if you became one day illustrious for
wisdom.

Such is the end of this long and interesting dialogue.* We
Remarkson Temark with some surprise that it closes without any
the dia- mention of Hippokrates, and without a word ad-
logue. with: dressed to him respecting his anxious request for
onttheleast admission to the society of Protagoras: though such

allusion to

Hippo- request had been presented at the beginning, with
krates. much emphasis, as the sole motive for the interven-

μακρὸν λόγον ἑκάτερος ἀπετείναμεν, ἐγὼ 2 Plato, Protag. p. 361 D. spo
ayy ain ὡς ov διδακτὸν ἀρετή, σὺ ye θούμενος ὑπὲρ τοῦ βίον τοῦ ἐμαυτοῦ
ὡς διδακτόν. παντός,

1 Plato, Protag. p. 861 Ὁ. ἐγὼ οὖν ὃ Most critics treat the Protagoras
πάντα ταῦτα καθορῶν ἄνω κάτω ταρατ- 88 a composition of Plato’s you
πτόμενα δεινῶς, πάσαν προθυμίαν ἔχω years —what they call his first verted
καταφανῆ αὑτὰ γενέσθαι, καὶ βουλοίμην ore the of Sokrates.
ἂν ταῦτα διεξελθόντας ἡμᾶς fix different years, from 407 B.C. (Ast)
ἐξελθεῖν καὶ ἐπὶ τὴν ἀρετὴν ὅ down to 402 B.C. I do not agree with
τι ὅστιν. this view. I can admit no dialogue

Cuap. XXIII SOKRATIC ORDER OF ETHICAL QUESTIONS. 299

tion of Sokrates. Upon this point! the dialogue is open to the
same criticism as that which Plato (in the Phedrus) bestows on
the discourse of Lysias : requiring that every discourse shall be
like a living organism, neither headless nor footless, but having
extremities and a middle piece adapted to each other.

In our review of this dialogue, we have found first, towards
the beginning, an expository discourse from Prota- .
goras, describing the maintenance and propagation of tinctaspects
virtue in an established community : next, towards ΤΟΙ οἷος ex.
the close, an expository string of interrogatories by hibited: one
Sokrates, destined to establish the identity of Good nameofPro-
with Pleasurable, Evil with Painful ; and the indis- fgorss;the
pensable supremacy of the calculating or measuring that of So-
science, as the tutelary guide of human life. Of the |
first, I speak (like other critics) as the discourse of Protagoras :
of the second, as the theory of Sokrates. But I must again re-
mind the reader, that both the one and the other are composi-
tions of Plato ; both alike’ are offspring of his ingenious and pro-
ductive imagination. Protagoras is not the author of that which
appears here under his name: and when we read the disparaging
epithets which many critics affix to his discourse, we must recol-
lect that these epithets, if they were well-founded, would have
no real application to the historical Protagoras, but only to Plato
himself. He has set forth two aspects, distinct and in part op-
posing, of ethics and politics: and he has provided a worthy
champion.for each. Philosophy, or “reasoned truth,” if it be
attainable at all, cannot most certainly be attained without such
many-sided handling: still less can that which Plato calls know-
ledge be attained—or such command of philosophy as will enable
a man to stand a Sokratic cross-examination in it.

In the last speech of Sokrates in the dialogue,? we find him
proclaiming, that the first of all problems to be solved oy ger of
was, What virtue really is? upon which there prevails ethical p pro-
serious confusion of opinions. It was a second ques- conceived
tion—important, yet still second and presupposing
the solution of the first—Whether virtue is weak able We

earlier than 309 B.c.: and I consider πάντα λόγον ὥσπερ ζῶον συνεστάναι,
the Protagoras to belong to Plato’s full σῶμά τι ἔχοντα αὑτὸν αὑτοῦ, ὥστε μήτε
ἀκέφαλον εἶναι μήτε ἄπουν, ὁ &c.

NA Pheedrus, p. 264 C. δεῖν wt Plato, Protag. p.

300 PROTAGORAS. Cuap. XXII.

noticed the same judgment as to the order of the two questions
delivered by Sokrates in the Menon.? .

Now the conception of ethical questions in this order—the
Difference reluctance to deal with the second until the first has
ofmethod been fully debated and settled—is one fundamental
himand _ characteristic of Sokrates. The difference of method,
flowsfrom between him and Protagoras, flows from this prior
this dit. se difference between them in fundamental conception.
order. Pro- What virtue is, Protagoras neither defines nor ana-
sumes what lyses, nor submits to debate. He manifests no con-
sciousness of the necessity of analysis : he accepts the
enquiry. ground already prepared for him by King Nomos: he
thus proceeds as if the first step had been made sure, and takes
his departure from hypotheses of which he renders no account—
as the Platonic Sokrates complains of the geometers for doing.”
To Protagoras, social or political virtue is a known and familiar
datum, about which no one can mistake: which must be pos-
sessed, in greater or less measure, by every man, as a condition of
the existence of society : which every individual has an interest
in promoting 1n all his neighbours : and which every one there-
fore teaches and enforces upon every one else. It is a matter of
common sense or common sentiment, and thus stands in contrast
with the special professional accomplishments ; which are con-
fined only to a few—and the possessors, teachers, and learners of
which are each an assignable section of the society. The parts or
branches of virtue are, in like manner, assumed by him as known,
in their relations to each other and to the whole. This persua-
sion of knowledge, without preliminary investigation, he adopts
from the general public, with whom he is in communion of senti-
ment. What they accept and enforce as virtue, he accepts and
enforces also.

1 See the last preceding chapter of controverte the position of Eberhard ;
this volume, p. 240. maintaining ‘‘that this is far too sub-
Upon this order, necessarily required, ordinate a standing- t for philo-
of the two questions, Schleiermacher sophy,—besides that it is reaso in
has a pertinert remark in his general a circle, since philosophy has first to
Einleitung to the works of Plato, p. 26. determine what the virtue of a citizen
Eberhard (he says) afirms that fhe is”.
end proposed by in a- 2
logues was to form the minds of the and ee voli ch. viii. Pe

1
noble Athenian youth, so as to make i
them virtnous citizens. Schleiermacher "marks of P lato om the geometers.

Cuap. XXIII. PROTAGOREAN OR RHETORICAL METHOD. 30]

Again, the method pursued by Protagoras, is one suitable to ἃ
teacher who has jumped over this first step ; who as- method of
sumes virtue, as something fixed in the public senti- Frotagoras.
ments—and addresses himself to those sentiments, lectures ad-
ready-made as he finds them. He expands and illus- dressed to |
trates them in continuous lectures of some length, publicsenti-
which fill both the ears and minds of the listener— which he is
“ Spartam nactus es, hanc exorna”: he describes their in harmony.
growth, propagation, and working in the community: he gives
interesting comments on the poets, eulogising the admired heroes
who form the theme of their verses, and enlarging on their ad-
monitions. Moreover, while resting altogether upon the autho-
rity of King Nomos, he points out the best jewel in the crown of
that potentate ; the great social fact of punishment prospective,
rationally apportioned, and employed altogether for preventing
and deterring—instead of being a mere retrospective impulse,
vindictive or retributive for the past. He describes instructively
the machinery operative in the community for ensuring obedience
to what they think right: he teaches, in his eloquent expositions
and interpretations, the same morality, public and private, that
every one else teaches : while he can perform the work of teach-
ing, somewhat more effectively than they. Lastly, his method is
essentially showy and popular ; intended for numerous assem-
blies, reproducing the established creeds and sentiments of those
assemblies, to their satisfaction and admiration. He is prepared
to be met and answered in his own way, by opposing speakers ;
and he conceives himself more than a match for such rivals. He
professes also to possess the art of short conversation or discus-
sion. But in the exercise of this art, he runs almost involun-
tarily into his more characteristic endowment of continuous
speech : besides that the points which he raises for discussion
assume all the fundamental principles, and turn only upon such
applications of those principles as are admitted by most persons
to be open questions, not foreclosed by a peremptory ortho-
doxy.

Upon all these points, Sokrates is the formal antithesis of Pro-
tagoras. He disclaims altogether the capacities to method of
which that Sophist lays claim. Not only he cannot SoKrates. ΠΟ
teach virtue, but he professes not to know what it is, that part of

302 PROTAGORAS. Cuap. XXIIL

the problem nor whether it be teachable at all. He starts from a
hich Fro. different point of view : not considering virtue as a
left out. known datum, or as an universal postulate, but, as-
sinilating it to a special craft or accomplishment, in which a few
practitioners suffice for the entire public: requiring that in this
capacity it shall be defined, and its practitioners and teachers
pointed out. He has no common ground with Protagoras ; for
the difficulties which he moots are just such as the common con-
sciousness (and Protagoras along with it) overleaps or supposes to
be settled. His first requirement, advanced under the modest
guise of a amall doubt! which Protagoras must certainly be com-
petent to remove, is, to know—What virtue is? What are the
separate parts of virtue — justice, moderation, holiness, &c.?
What is the relation which they bear to each other and to the
whole—virtue? Are they homogeneous, differing only in quan-
tity—or has each of them its own specific essence and pecu-
liarity 12 Respecting virtue as a whole, we must recollect, Pro-
tagoras had discoursed eloquently and confidently, as of a matter
perfectly known. He is now called back as it were to meet an
attack in the rear: to answer questions which he had never con-
sidered, and which had never even presented themselves to him
as questions. At first he replies as if the questions offered no
difficulty ;* sometimes he does not feel their importance, so that
it seems to him a matter of indifference whether he replies in the
affirmative or negative.‘ But he finds himself brought round,
by a series of questions, to assent to conclusions which he never-
theless thinks untrue, and which are certainly unwelcome. Ac-
cordingly, he becomes more and more disgusted with the process
of analytical interrogation: and at length answers with such
impatience and prolixity, that the interrogation can no longer
be prosecuted. Here comes in the break—the remonstrance of
Sokrates—and the mediation of the by-standers.

1 Plato, Protag. 328 Ε. πλὴν 3 Plato » Protag. Ὁ. 329 ἢ. ᾿Αλλὰ
σμικρόν τί μοι ἐμπι ὦν, ὃ δῆλον ὅτι ῥάδιον τοῦτό γ᾽, ἔφη, ἀποκρίνασθαι, &.

Πρωταγόρας χε ἐπεκδιδάξει, &c. 4 ᾿
Aris Plato, 381 Ὁ. εἰ
genes ‘alle n of of Bios, a βούλει, ἔστω a ni δικαιοσύ " Souor
οὔτε πολλὰς εἰσῆγε Ψν, ὡς ὁ Ζήνων, οὔτε καὶ ὁσιότης δίκαιον. Μή μοι, ἦν δ᾽ ἐγώ-
μίαν πολλοῖς ὀνόμασιν kadouud οὐδὲν γὰρ δέο αι τὸ “εἰ βούλει"
ἀλλὰ καὶ τὸ πρὸς τί πως ἔχειν (Ὁ (Diog. τοῦτο καὶ “εἰ σοι δοκεῖ"
Laert. vii. 161). θαι, ἀλλ᾽ ἐμέ τε καὶ σέ.

Chap. XXL THE RHETOR UNDER CROSS-EXAMINATION. 303

It is this antithesis between the eloquent popular lecturer, and
the analytical enquirer and cross-examiner, which the ὦ sinesis
dialogue seems mainly intended to set forth. Prota- between the
goras professes to know that which he neither knows, jecturer
nor has ever tried to probe to the bottom. Upon 2nd the
this false persuasion of knowledge, the Sokratic cross-exa-
Elenchus is brought to bear. We are made to see
how strange, repugnant, and perplexing, is the process of analysis
to this eloquent expositor : how incompetent he is to go through
it without confusion : how little he can define his own terms, or
determine the limits of those notions on which he is perpetually
descanting.

It is not that Protagoras is proved to be wrong (I speak now
of this early part of the conversation, between chapters
51-62—pp. 329-335) in the substantive ground which not i
hetakes. I do not atall believe (as many criticseither ‘ended to
affirm or imply) that Plato intended all which he in the
composed under the name of Protagoras to be vile though
perversion of truth, with nothing but empty words is described
and exorbitant pretensions. I do not even believe toa contra-
that Plato intended all those observations, to which diction.
the name of Protagoras is prefixed, to be accounted silly—while
all that is assigned to Sokrates,' is admirable sense and acuteness.
It is by no means certain that Plato intended to be understood
as himself endorsing the opinions which he ascribes everywhere
to Sokrates : and it is quite certain that he does not always make
the Sokrates of one dialogue consistent with the Sokrates of
another. For the purpose of showing the incapacity of the
respondent to satisfy the exigencies of analysis, we need not
necessarily suppose that the conclusion to which the questions
conduct should be a true one. If the respondent be brought,
through his own admissions, to a contradiction, this is enough to
prove that he did not know the subject deeply enough to make
the proper answers and distinctions.

But whatever may have been the intention of Plato, if we look
at the fact, we shall find that what he has assigned to Afirmation
Sokrates is not always true, nor what he has given to ras abou
1Schine, in his Commen a fish under the name of Protagoras

the Pro oras is of Opinion the that. a (Ueber den Protag. von Platon, p. 180
good part to lato’s own doctrine is seq.).

304 PROTAGORAS. CHaP. XXIII.

courageis Protagoras, always false. The positions laid down by
effirmed the latter—-That many men are courageous, but
himself unjust : that various persons are just, without being
wise and intelligent: that he who possesses one virtue,
does not of necessity possess all:!1—are not only in conformity
with the common opinion, but are quite true, though Sokrates is
made to dispute them. Moreover, the arguments employed by
Sokrates (including in those arguments the strange propositions
that justice is just, and that holiness is holy) are certainly noway
conclusive? Though Protagoras, becoming entangled in difficul-
ties, and incapable of maintaining his consistency against an
embarrassing cross-examination, is of course exhibited as ignorant
of that which he professes to know—the doctrine which he
maintains is neither untrue in itself, nor even shown to be
apparently untrue.

As to the arrogant and exorbitant pretensions which: the
The harsh Jatonic commentators ascribe to Protagoras, more is
epithets β4]4 than the reality justifies. He pretends to know
criticsto. 4 What virtue, justice, moderation, courage, &c., are,
Frotagoras and he is proved not to know. But this is what
borne out every one else pretends to know also, and what every
dialogue. | body else teaches as well as he—“ Hae Janus summus
ab amo Perdocet : hic recinunt juvenes dictata senesque ”.

undas What he pretends to do, beyond the general public, —
conscious. he really can do. He can discourse, learnedly and
eloquently, upon these received doctrines and senti-
ments: he can enlist the feelings and sympathies of the public in
favour of that which he, in common with the public, believes to
be good—and against that which he and they believe to be bad :

To say ** Justice is just,” or “ Holi-
is here made to that many men ness is holy,” is indeed either mere
are courageous who are neither just, tautology, or else an impropriety of
nor temperate, nor virtuous in other speech. Dr. Hutcheson observes on
respects. Sokrates contradicts the an analogous case :—‘* None can apply

sition. But in the Treatise De i- moral attributes to the very faculty of
us Gp. 680 B), Flato himself says the perceiving moral qualities: or cal] his
same thing as tagoras is here made moral Sense mo ἡ Good or Evil, any
to say: at least assuming that the more than hecalls the power of tasting,
Athenian er in De Fogg. repre- sweet or bitter—or the power of seeing,
sents the sentiment of Plato himself straight or crooked, white or black
at the time when he composed that (Hutcheson on the Passions, sect. £.
treatise. Ῥ. 234).
2 Plato, Protag. p. 880 C, p. 883 B.

παρ. XXIIL HATRED OF THE PUBLIC FOR DIALECTIC. 305

he can thus teach virtue more effectively than others. But
whether that which is received as virtue, be really such—he has
never analysed or verified : nor does he willingly submit to the
process of analysis. Here again he is in harmony with the
general public: for they hate, as much as he does, to be dragged
back to fundamentals, and forced to explain, defend, revise, or
modify, their established sentiments and maxims: which they
apply as principia for deduction to particular cases, and which
they recognise as axioms whereby other things are to be tried,
not as liable to be tried themselves. Protagoras is one of the
general public, in dislike of, and inaptitude for, analysis and
dialectic discussion : while he stands above them in his eloquence
and his power of combining, illustrating, and adorning, received
doctrines. These are points of superiority, not pretended, but
real.

The aversion of Protagoras for dialectic discussion — after
causing an interruption of the ethical argument, and , .. ion of
an interlude of comment on the poet Simonides—is Protagoras
at length with difficulty overcome, and the argument εἰς. Inter-
is then resumed. The question still continues, What [ude ehout
is virtue? What are the five different parts of vir- of Simo-
tue? Yet it is so far altered that Protagoras now
admits that the four parts of virtue which Sokrates professed to
have shown to be nearly identical, really are tolerably alike : but
he nevertheless contends that courage is very different from all
of them , repeating his declaration that many men are courageous,
but unjust and stupid at the same time. This position Sokrates
undertakes to refute. In doing so, he lays out one of the largest,
most distinct, and most positive theories of virtue, which can be
found in the Platonic writings.

Virtue, according to this theory, consists in a right measure-
ment and choice of pleasures and pains: in deciding Ethical
correctly, wherever we have an alternative, on which by Sokrates
side lies the largest pleasure or the least pain—and —Worked
choosing the side which presents this balance. To le
live pléasurably, is pronounced to be good: to live Good snd
without pleasure or in pain, is evil. Moreover, ¢Vil consist
nothing but pleasure, or comparative mitigation of wrongcalcu-

2—20

306

lation of
pleasures
and pains
of the
agent.

PROTAGORAS.

Cap. XXIII.

pain, is good: nothing but pain is evil! Good, is iden-
tical with the greatest pleasure or least pain: evil, with
the greatest pain: meaning thereby each pleasure
and each pain when looked at along with its conse-

quences and concomitants. The grand determining cause and
condition of virtue is knowledge : the knowledge, science, or art,
of correctly measuring the comparative value of different plea-
sures and pains. Such knowledge (the theory affirms), wherever
it is possessed, will be sure to command the whole man, to
dictate all his conduct, and to prevail over every temptation of
special appetite or aversion. To say that aman who knows on
which side the greatest pleasure or the least pain lies, will act
against his knowledge—is a mistake. If he acts in this way, it is
plain that he does not possess the knowledge, and that he sins

through ignorance.

Protagoras agrees with Sokrates in the encomiums bestowed

Protagoras

on the paramount importance and ascendancy of

is at τοῦ knowledge: but does not at first agree with him in
theory. identifying good with pleasure, and evil with pain.

1 The substantial identity of Good
' with Pleasure, of Evil with Pain, was
the doctrine of the historical Sokrates
as declared in Xenophon's Memora-
bilia. among passages, i.
6, & Tov δὲ μὴ δονλεύειν γαστρὶ μηδὲ
ὕπνῳ καὶ λαγνείᾳ, οἴει τι ἄλλο αἰτιώ-
τερον εἶναι, καὶ ἕτερα ἔχειν τούτων
ἡδίω, ἃ οὐ μόνον ἐν χρεΐᾳ ὄντα εὐφραίνει,
ἀλλὰ καὶ ἐλπίδας παρέχοντα ὠφελήσειν
ἀεί; Kai μὴν τοῦτό γε οἷσθα, ὅτι οἱ μὲν
οἱόμενοι ἐηδὲν εὖ πράττειν οὐκ εὐφραί-
vovras, οἱ δὲ ἡγούμενοι καλῶς προχωρεῖν
davtois, ἣ γεωργίαν ἣ νανυκληρίαν ἣ
ἄλλ᾽ ὅ, τε φτνγχάνωσιν ἐργαζόμενοι,
ὡς εὖ πράττοντες εὐφραίνονται. Οἴει
οὖν ἀπὸ πάντων τούτων τοσαύτην ἡδονὴν
εἶναι, ὅσην ἀπὸ τοῦ ἑαυτόν τε ἡγεῖσθαι
βελτίω γίγνεσθαι καὶ φίλους ἀμείνους
κτᾶσθαι; "Ἐγὼ τοίνυν διατελῶ ταῦτα

¢ 5

or Evil is nothing but pleasure or pain
to us—or that which procures pleasure
or pain tous. Moral good or evil then
is only the conformity or disagreement
Οὗ our voluntary ons to some law,
whereby good or evil is drawn on us
by the will and power of the law-
maker ; which or evil, pleasure
or pain, atten our observance 6r

breach of the law, is that we call
reward or punishment.”

The formal distinction here taken
by Locke between pleasure and that
which procures pleasure—both the one
and the other being called Good—(the
like in regard to and evil) is not
distinctly stated by Sokrates in the
Protagoras, though he says nothing
inconsistent with it: but it is distinctly
stated in the Hepablic, ii. p. 357, where
Good is distributed under three heads.
1. That which we desire immediately
and for itself—such as Enjoyment,
Innocuous pleasure. 2 That which
we desire both for itself and for its
consequences — health, intelligence,
good sight or hearing, &c 8. That
which we do not desire (perhaps even
shun) for itself, but which we accept
by reason of its consequences in avert-
ing greater pains or procuring greater
pleasures.

This discrimination of the varieties
of Good, given in the Republic, is

uite consistent with what is stated by

okrates in the Protagoras, though it
is more full and precise. But it is not
consistent with what Sokrates says in
the Gorgias, where he asserts a radical _
dissimilarity of nature between ἡδὺ and
ay ov

--ς

Crur. XXII. PLEASURE AND GOOD. 307

Upon this point, too, he is represented as agreeing in opinion
with the Many. He does not admit that to live pleasurably is
good, unless where a man takes his pleasure in honourable
things. He thinks it safer, and more consistent with his own
whole life, to maintain—That pleasurable things, or painful .
things, may be either good, or evil, or indifferent, according to
the particular case.

This doctrine Sokrates takes much pains to refute. He con-
ends that pleasurable things, so far forth as pleasur- peasoning
able, are always good—dnd painful things, so far of Sokrates. .
forth as painful, always evil. When some pleasures are called
evil, that isnot on account of any thing belonging to the pleasure
itself, but becauge of its ulterior consequences and concomitants,
which arg painful or distressing in a degree more than counter-
vailing the pleasure. So too, when some pains are pronounced
to be good, this is not from any peculiarity in the pain itself, but
because of its consequences and concomitants: such pain: being
required as a condition to the attainment of health, security,
-wealth, and other pleasures or satisfactions more than counter-
balancing. Sokrates challenges opponents to name any other
end, with reference to which things are called good, except their
tendency to prevent or relieve pains and to ensure a balance of
pleasure: he challenges them to name any other end, with
reference to which. things are called evil, except their tendency to
_ produce pains and to intercept or destroy pleasures. In measur-
ing .pleasures and pains against each other, there is no other
difference to be reckoned except that of greater or less, more or
fewer. The difference between near and distant, does indeed
obtrude itself upon us as a misleading element. But it is the
special task of the “ measuring science” to correct this illusion—-
and to compare pleasures or pains, whether near or distant,
according to their real worth: just as we learn to rectify the

illusions of the sight in regard to near and distant objects.
Sokrates proceeds to apply this general principle in correcting
the explanation of courage given by Protagoras. He 4. Jisation
shows, or tries to show, that courage, like all the of zea
other branches of virtue, consists in acting on ἃ just the case of
estimate of comparative pleasures and pains. No CUTaé®
man affronts evil, or the alternative of greater pain, knowing it

308 PROTAGORAS. Cuap. XXTIL

to be such: no man therefore adventures himself in any terrible
enterprise, knowing it to be so: neither the brave nor the timid
do this. Both the brave and the timid affront that which they
think not terrible, or the least terrible of two alternatives: but
they estimate differently what is such. The former go readily
to war when required, the latter evade it. Now to go into war.
when required, is honourable: being honourable, it is good:
being honourable and good, it is pleasurable. The brave know
this, and enter upon it willingly: the timid not only do not
know it, but entertain the contrary opinion, looking upon war as
painful and terrible, and-therefore keeping aloof. The brave
men fear what it is honourable to fear, the cowards what it is
dishonourable to fear: the former act upon the knowledge of
what is really terrible, the latter are misled by their ignorance of
it. Courage is thus, like the other virtues, a case of accurate
knowledge of comparative pleasures and pains, or of good and
evil?

Such is the ethical theory which the Platonic Sokrates
enunciates in this dialogue, and which Protagoras and.
the others accept. It is positive and distinct, to a
degree very unusual with Plato. We shall find that

1 Com
passage tn the Republic, the Republic, iv. iw pp. p, ει ὃ,
480 Ὧθ0 Ee whi

(thou ἢ μέγ ον ΠΑ ΤΩ the same oopitticn)
than here in the Pro
tonic Sokrates i

The
may be is more intolerable to the brave man
the teneral ora oration delivered by Peri- than the fear of wounds and A death in

klés, Thacyd. ii. 43, "AAyeworépa the service of his country.

The theory
which Pla
here lays
down is

reason and in

inion of of the
ton de a sentence from
Θ

γαρ ἀνδρί γε φρόνημα ἕἔ ἔχοντι ἡ tn ng nerd

Tov μαλακισθῆναι κάκωσις,

ῥώμη καὶ κοινῆς ἐλπίδος ἅ
ἀναίσθητος Odvaros—which

‘arnold thus translates in his nota :

i. pp. 646-647. He is Bon, Pinto,
Leg. i. pp. He is φοβερὸς μετὰ

γόμον, μετὰ
way, ἴῃ both Plato and

Thucy des conceive the of
the brave citizen as compared with the

‘*‘ For more grievous to 2m man of of noble coward.

mind is the It is that this resolves itself
ther with co ca, then the the unfelt ultima into a different estimate of
eath which befalls him in the midst Ρ ve ; case being one

of his strength bend’ hopes for thecom- in which pleasure is not concerned.

mon welfare.” That the self-reproach and
So again in the Phedon ot 68) infamy in the eyes of others are

Sokrates describes the couras of the the most onising in the human
ordinary unphilosophical to bosom, n

consist in braving eath from fear of
greater evils (which is the same view
as that of Sokrates in the Protagoras),
while the philosopher i is courageous on
a different principle; aspiring only to

the same time the sentiments here
conceived embrace a tude δοιὰ δέ
sym y, comprising the

honour, and security, of others as

as of the individual agent.

Crap. XXIII. ETHICAL END POSITIVELY STATED. 309

he theorises differently in other dialogues; whether more dis

for the better or the worse, will be hereafter seen. ific
He declares here explicitly that pleasure, or happi- theory laid
ness, is thefend to be pursued ; and pain, or misery, down in
the end to be avoided: and that there is no other rogues
end, in reference to which things can be called good or evil, except
as they tend to promote pleasure or mitigate suffering, on the
one side—to entail pain or suffering on the other. He challenges
objectors to assign any other end. And thus much is certain—
that in those other dialogues where he himself departs from the
present doctrine, he has not complied with his own challenge.
Nowhere has he specified a different end. In other dialogues, as
well as in the Protagoras, Plato has insisted on the necessity of a
science or art of calculation: but in no other dialogue has he
told us distinctly what are the items to be calculated. .

I perfectly agree with the doctrine laid down by Sokrates in
the Protagoras, that pain or suffering is the End to be Remarks on
avoided or lessened as far as possible—and pleasure fhe *heor
or happiness the End to be pursued as far as attain- down by
able—by intelligent forethought and comparison : It is too
that there is no other intelligible standard of re- Da'Tow, and
ference, for application of the terms Good and Evil, prudenti
except the tendency to produce happiness or misery : and that if
this standard be rejected, ethical debate loses all standard for
rational discussion, and becomes only an enunciation of the
different sentiments, authoritative and self-justifying, prevalent
in each community. But the End just mentioned is highly
complex, and care must be taken to conceive it in its full com-
prehension. Herein I conceive the argument of Sokrates (in the
Protagoras) to be incomplete. It carries attention only to a part
of the truth, keeping out of sight, though not excluding, the
remainder. It considers each man as an individual, determining
good or evil for himself by calculating his own pleasures and
pains: as a prudent, temperate, and courageous agent, but
neither as just nor beneficent. It omits to take account of him
as a member of a society, composed of many others akin or co-
ordinate with himself. Now it is the purpose of an ethical or
political reasoner (such as Plato both professes to be and really
is) to study the means of happiness, not simply for the agent

310 PROTAGORAS. CuaP XXL

himeelf, but for that agent together with others around him—for
the members of the community generally.1 The Platonic So-
krates says this himself in the Republic: and accordingly, he
there treats of other points which are not touched upon by
Sokrates in the Protagoras. He proclaims that the happiness of
each citizen must be sought only by means consistent with the
security, and to a certain extent with the happiness, of others:
he provides as far as practicable that all shall derive their
pleasures and pains from the same causes: common pleasures,
and common pains, to all.? The doctrine of Sokrates in the Pro-
‘tagoras requires to be enlarged so as to comprehend these other
important elements. Since the conduct of every agent affects
the happiness of others, he must be called upon to take account
of its consequences under both aspects, especially where it goes to
inflict hurt or privation upon others. Good and evil depend
upon that scientific computation and comparison of pleasures and
pains which Sokrates in the Protagoras prescribes: but the com-
putation must include, to a certain extent, the pleasures and
pains (security and rightful expectations) of others besides the
agent himself, implicated in the consequences of his acts.*

As to this point, we shall find the Platonic Sokrates not
Comparison ®lways correct, nor even consistent with himself.
with the § This will appear especially when we come to see the
Republic. account which he gives of Justice in the Republic.
In that branch of the Ethical End, a direct regard to the secu-
rity of others comes into the foreground. For in an act of in-
justice, the prominent characteristic is that of harm done to
others—though that is not the whole, since the security of the
agent himself is implicated with that of others in the general
fulfilment of these obligations. It is this primary regard to
others, and secondary regard to self, implicated in one complex

; Plato, Republ. iv. pp. 420-421, v. p. tarianism bv Mr. John Stuart Mill
466

icin Republ. v. pp. 462 A-B-D, the standard is not the greatest happi-

Throughout the first of these chu the greatest amount of happiness alto-
valent of ἠδονή, κακὸν as the equivalent geth Or eat we canno Sekine in
of λύπη. his conversation with Protagoras, ‘“‘the
brief "tut Waiuable “rect on Util calle ἢ in page 1. ™

Crap. XXII. ETHICAL END INCOMPLETE. 41}

feeling—which distinguishes justice from prudence. The Pla-
tonic Sokrates in the Republic (though his language is not always
clear) does not admit this; but considers justice 88 ἃ branch of
prudence, necessary to ensure the happiness of the individual
agent himself.

Now in the Protagoras, what the Platonic Sokrates dwelle
upon (in the argument which I have been consider- the dis-
ing) is prudence, temperance, courage : little,or noth- Srotageras
ing is said about justice: there was therefore the less brings out
necessity for insisting on that prominent reference en impor- of
to the security of others (besides the agent himself) the whole
which justice involves. If, however, we turn back is
to the earlier part of the dialogue, to the speech lysis by
delivered. by Protagoras, we see justice brought into
the foreground. It is not indeed handled analytically (which
is not the manner of that Sophist), nor is it resolved into regard
to pleasure and pain, happiness and misery : but it is announced
as a social sentiment indispensably and reciprocally necessary
from every man towards every other (8ixn—aidds), distinguish-
able from those endowments which supply the wants and multi-
ply the comforts of the individual himself. The very existence
of the social union requires, that each man should feel a senti-
ment of duties on his part towards others, and duties on their
parts towards him: or (in other words) of rights on his part to
have his interests considered by others, and rights on their parts
to have {εἰν interests considered by him. Unless this senti-
ment of reciprocity—reciprocal duty and right—exist in the
bosom of each individual citizen, or at least in the large majority
—no social union could subsist. There are doubtless different
degrees of the sentiment: moreover the rights and duties may be
apportioned better or worse, more or less fairly, among the indi-
viduals of a society ; thus rendering the society more or less
estimable and comfortable. But without a certain minimum of
the sentiment in each individual bosom, even the worst consti-
tuted society could not hold together. And it is this sentiment
of reciprocity which Protagoras (in the dialogue before us) is
introduced as postulating in his declaration, that justice and the
sense of shame (unlike to professional aptitudes) must be distri-
buted universally and without exception among all the members

312

PROTAGORAS.

CuHap. XXIIL

of a community. Each man must feel them, .n his conduct
towards others: each man must also be able to reckon that others
will feel the like, in their behaviour towards him.

If we thus compare the Ethical End, as implied, though not
The Ethical explicitly laid down, by Protagoras in the earlier

0
involves a

part of the dialogue,—and as laid down by Sokrates
in the later part—we shall see that while Sokrates
restricts it to a true comparative estimate of the

card to the pains and pleasures of the agent himself, Protagoras

pleasures

and

of other
1 Professor Bain his work on
the Emotions and Will, ch xv.

On the Ethical Emotions, pp.
has given remarks pertinen
to the illustration of that doctrine
which Plato has here placed under
the name of Pro

“The sup uniformity of moral
distinctions resolves itself into the two
following particulars. , the com-
mon en
also individual preservation,
‘certain precautions that are every-
where very much alike, and can in no
case be dispensed with. Some sort of
constituted authority to contro] the in-
dividual impulses and to protect each
man’s person and property, must exist
wherever a number of human beings
live together. The duties springing
out o necessary arrangement are
essentially the same in all societies. . .
They have a pretty uniform character
all over the globe. If the sense of
the common safety were not suf-
ficiently strong to constitute the social
tie of o ence to some common regu-
lations, society could not exist. ...

It is no of the universal spread of
a innate faculty of moral dis-
tinctions, but of a certain rational

appreciation of what is necessary for
ths very existence of every human
being living in the com of others :
Doubtless, if the sad ry of the
human race had been preserved in
τὰ aoe we should have many €2
am: tribes perished from being
σαὶ to the rateatate bs posed

sys. or to restraints im:

t. We know enough of the wecorde
of ow difficult it is
for human nature to comply in full
with the social conditions of security ;

of public security, which is im

enlarges it so as to include a direct reference to those
of others also, coupled with an expectation of the like

but if this were not complied with

ment. ...
men’s sentiments, likings, aversions,
and antipathies, there is nothing
common Fat the fact that some
one or other of these are carried to
the length of public requirement,
and mixed up in one code with the
imperative duties old society

together.”
The postulate of the Platonic Prota-
δίκη and αἰδὼς must be
elt to a certain extent in each man’s
exist-
6 first

Sokratic analysis is brought to exa-
mine.

Cuap. XXL RECIPROCITY OF REGARD INDISPENSABLE. 313

reference on the part of others.! Sokrates is satisfied persons be-
with requiring from each person ealculating prudence agent him-
for his own pleasures and pains: while Protagoras ἢ
proclaims that after this attribute had been obtained by man, and
individual wants supplied, still there was a farther element
necessary in the calculation—the social sentiment or reciprocity
of regard implanted in every one’s bosom: without this the
human race would have perished. Prudence and skill will
suffice for an isolated existence; but if men are to live and act
in social communion, the services as well as the requirements
of each man must be shaped, in a certain measure, with a direct
view to the security of others as well as to his own.

In my judgment, the Ethical End, exclusively self-regarding,
here laid down by Sokrates, is too narrow. And if we turn to
other Platonic dialogues, we shall find Sokrates still represented
as proclaiming a self-regarding Ethical End, though not the same
as what we read in the Protagoras. In the Gorgias, Republic,
Pheedon, &c., we shall find him discountenancing the calculation
(recommended in the Protagoras) of pleasures and pains against
each other, as greater, more certain, durable, &c., and insisting
that all shall be estimated according as they bear on the general
condition or health of the mind, which he assimilates to the
general condition or health of the body. The health of the
body, considered as an End to be pursued, is essentially self-
regarding : so also is the health of the mind. I shall touch upon
this farther when I consider the above-mentioned dialogues: at
present, I only remark that they agree with the Sokrates of the
Protagoras in assuming a self-regarding Ethical End, though
they do not agree with him in describing what that End should
be.

The application which Sokrates makes (in the Protagoras) of
his own assumed Ethical End to the explanation of Plato's rea-
courage, is certainly confused and unsatisfactory. soning in
And indeed, we may farther remark that the general is not clear
result at which Plato seems to be aiming in this °
dialogue, viz.: That all the different virtues are at cially a t
the bottom one and the same, and that he who pos-

1 Plato, Protag. pp. 321-322.

314 PROTAGORAS. Cuap. XXIIL

sesses one of them must also possess the remainder—cannot be
made out even upon his own assumptions. Though it be true
that all the virtues depend upon correct calculation, yet as each
of them applies to a different set of circumstances and different
disturbing and misleading causes, the same man who calculates
well under one set of circumstances, may calculate badly under
others. The position laid down by Protagoras, that men are
often courageous but unjust—just, but not wise—is noway refuted
by Plato. Nor is it even inconsistent with Plato’s own theory,
though he seems to think it so.

Some of the Platonic commentators maintain,) that the doc-
Doctrine of Tine here explicitly laid down and illustrated by
Stallbaum Sokrates, viz.: the essential identity of the pleasur-

qritics is, able with the good, of the painfal with the evil—is
Terres: to be regarded as not serious, but as taken up in
analysis jest for the purpose of mocking and humiliating Pro-
here as, tagoras. Such an hypothesis appears to me unten-
Sokratesis_ able; contradicted by the whole tenor of the dialogue.
notintended

by Platoas Throughout all the Platonic compositions, there is
serious, but nowhere to be found any train of argument more
ery of the direct, more serious, and more elaborate, than that )

᾿ by which Sokrates here proves the identity of good
with pleasure, of pain with evil (p. 351 to end). Protagoras
begins by denying it, and is only compelled to accept the conclu-
sion against his own will, by the series of questions which. he
cannot otherwise answer? Sokrates admits that the bulk of
mankind are also opposed to it: but he establishes it with an
ingenuity which is pronounced to be triumphant by all the

, Gesch. -
Rém., Phil. Part ii. sect. 114, note? p. under obligation report uy
458 ; Stall Prolegom. 2 i d exactly what is declared So-
pp. tn the , whether it be
So too Ficinus says - consistent or not with the

in his Argu
mentum to the Protagoras: (p. 765)
“ΤΌΣΩ vero de bono et malo multa
tractantur. Siquidem prudentia est
scientia eligendi boni, malique vitandi.
Ambigitur autem utrum bonum malum-
que idem sit penitus quod et voluptas
et dolor. Neque eon dd quidem
omnino, neque manifesté omnino nega-
tur. De hoc enim in Gorgi& Phile-
ue et alibi,” &c.
hen a critic composes an Argu-

Philébus. Yet here wef find us
misrepresenting θ tagoras,
order to force it into harmony with
the other two.

2This is so directly stated that I
am rised to find Zeller (am
many other critics announcing
Plato here accepts for the on the
Standpunkt of his enemies (Philos. der
Griech. vol. ii. p. 880, ed. 2nd).

Cuap. XXII, REASONING OF SOKRATES NOT IRONICAL.

hearers around.!

315

The commentators are at liberty to impeach

the reasoning as unsound ; but to set it aside as mere banter and

mockery, is preposterous.

Assume it even to be intended as

mockery—assume that Sokrates is mystifying the hearers, by a
string of delusive queries, tc make out a thesis which he knows
to be untrue and silly—how can the mockery fall upon Prota-
goras, who denies the thesis from the beginning?? The irony, if
it were irony, would be misplaced and absurd.

The commentators resort to this hypothesis, partly because the

1 Plato, Protag. Ὁ. 358 A. ὑπερφνῶς
ὁδόκει ἅπασιν ἀληθῆ εἶναι τὰ εἰρημένα.

3 When Stalibaum asserts the
thesis is taken up by Sokrates as one
which was maintained by Protagoras
and the other his s (Proleg. p. 33),
he says what is distinctly at variance

same thesis (the fundamental identi
of good with pleasure, evil with pain
is altogether “unsokratic and un-
platonic” ; that it is handled here b
krates in a manner visibly ironi
(sichtbar ironisch) ; that the parpose
of the argument is to show the stapidity

of Protagoras, who is puzzled and im-
upon by such ubvious fallacies
Ejinleitan 230, bot-

g zam . p
tom of 282), and who is made to
exhibit 80 mene say: Kinl.
zum Gorgias, 14) a string -
crous abenrdittes.

Upon this I have to remark first,
that if the stupidity of Protagoras is
intended to be shown up, that of all
the other persons present must be
equally manifested ; for all of them
assent emphatically, at the close, to
the thesis as having been proved
(Prot. p. 358 A): next, that I am un-
able to see either the absurdities of
Protagoras or the irony of Sokrates,
which Schleiermacher asserts to be so
visible. The argument of Sokrates is
as serious and
which we read in Plato. Schleier-
macher seems to me to misconceive
alt er rot only here but also in

g zam rgias, p.
the concluding argument of Sokrates
in the Protagoras. To describe the
identity between ἡδὺ and a ν asa
“ acheinbare Voranssetzung is to de-

m the m of words.
Pe min, Steinhart prerren that So-
krates assumes this doctrine (identity
of pleasure with good, pain with evil),

borate asany thing

*‘ not as his own opinion, but only hypo-
thetically, with a sarcastic side-glance
at theabsurd consequences which man
deduced from it—only as the receiv
world-morality, as the opinion of the

jority ” inleit. zum Protag. p.
419). How Cteinhart can find ret of
this in the dialogue, I am at a loss to
understand. The dialogue presents to
us Sokrates introducing the opinion as
his own, against that of Protagoras and
against that of the multitade (p. 361 C).
On hearing this opposition from Pro-
tagoras, Sokrates invites him to an
investigation, whether the opinion be
just; Sokrates then conducts the in-
vestigation himself, along with Prota-
goras, at considerable length, and ulti-

matel rings out the doctrine as
prov with the assent of all pre-
sent.

These forced interpretations are
resorted to, because the critics cannot
bear to see the Platonic Sokrates
maintaining a thesis substantially the
same as of Kudoxus and Epikurus.
Upon this point, K. F. Hermann is
more moderate than the others; he
admits the thesis to be seriously main-
tained in the dialogue—states that it
was really the opinion of the historical
Sokrates—and adds that it was also the
opinion of Plato himself during his
early Sokratic stadium, when the Pro-
tagoras (as he thinks) was com
(Gesch. und Syst. der Plat. Phil. pp.
462-463

Most of the critics in consider-
ing the Protagoras to be one of Plato's
earlier dialogues, about 403 B.c. Ast
even refers it to 407 B.c. when Plato
was about twenty-one years of age. I
have already given my reasons for
believing that none of the Platonic
dialogues were composed before 399 B.C.

The Protagoras belo in my opinion,
to Plato’s most ect and mature
period.

316 | PROTAGORAS. Cuar. XXIIL.

Grounds of Goctrine in question is one which they disapprove
—partly because doctrines inconsistent with it are
maintained in other Platonic dialogues. These are
ency. the same two reasons upon which, in other cases,
various dialogues have been rejected as not genuine works of
Plato. The first of the two reasons is plainly irrelevant: we
must accept what Plato gives us, whether we assent to it or not.
The second reason also, I think, proves little. The dialogues are .
distinct compositions, written each with its own circumstances
and purpose: we have no right to require that they shall be all
consistent with each other in doctrine, especially when we look
to the long philosophical career of Plato. To suppose that the
elaborate reasoning of Sokrates in the latter portion of the Prota-
goras is mere irony, intended to mystify both Protagoras himself
and all the by-standers, who accept it as earnest and convincing
—appears to me far less reasonable than the admission, that the
dialectic pleading ascribed to Sokrates in one dialogue is incon-
sistent with that assigned to him in another.

Though there is every mark of seriousness, and no mark of

Subject is is irony, in this reasoning of Sokrates, yet we must
provessedly remember that he does not profess to leave the sub-
settled at ject settled at the close of the dialogue. On the con-
the close of trary, he declares himself to be in a state of puzzle
logue. and perplexity. The question, proposed at the outset,
Whether virtue is teachable? remains undecided.

oc-
trine. Their
insu ffici-

Cuar. XXIV. GORGIAS. 317

CHAPTER XXIV.
GORGIAS.

ARISTOTLE, in one of his lost dialogues, made honourable men-
tion of a Corinthian cultivator, who, on reading the Ῥ ho
Platonic Gorgias, was smitten with such vehement debate in
admiration, that he abandoned his fields and his GeGorpise
vines, came to Athens forthwith, and committed him- the histori-
8617 to the tuition of Plato. How much of reality “ 97
there may be in this anecdote, we cannot say: but the Gorgias
itself is well calculated to justify such warm admiration. It
opens with a discussion on the nature and purpose of Rhetoric,
but is gradually enlarged so as to include a comparison of the
various schemes of life, and an outline of positive ethical theory.
‘It is carried on by Sokrates with three distinct interlocutors—
Gorgias, Polus, and Kalliklés; but I must again remind the
reader that all the four are only spokesmen prompted by Plato
himeelf.? It may indeed be considered almost as three distinct
dialogues, connected by a loose thread. The historical Gorgias,
a native of Leontini in Sicily, was the most celebrated of the
. Grecian rhetors ; an elderly man during Plato’s youth. He paid
visits to different cities in all parts of Greece, and gave lessons
in rhetoric to numerous pupils, chiefly young men of ambitious
aspirations.*

1 ῃ i οὐκ ὅτι καὶ
Dindorf. Ὁ τ τὸν Be ὃ χρρώθος δι; δ Sunpirys καὶ Ὁ Καλλεελώς καὶ ὁ
τῷ, _Evyyersnevos — οὐκ αὐτῷ Τοργίας καὶ ὁ Τιῶλος, πάντα ταῦτ'
Being Κρ ie τὸ μναῖς, ἐπὶ Hd, oo τὸ ome, Υ

318 GORGIAS, CuHap. XXIV.

Sokrates and Cheerephon are described as intending to come to
Introduc. 8. rhetorical lecture of Gorgias, but as having been ac-
tory circum- cidentally detained so as not to arrive until just after
the dia- it has been finished, with brilliant success. Kalliklés,
logue. πὰ however, the host and friend of Gorgias, promises that
Kalliklés. the rhetor will readily answer any questions put by
Sokrates ; which Gorgias himself confirms, observing at the same
time that no one had asked him any new question for many years
past. Sokrates accordingly asks Gorgias what his profession is ἢ
what it is that he teaches? what is the definition of rhetoric ?
Not receiving a satisfactory answer, Sokrates furnishes a defini-
tion of his own: out of which grow two arguments of wide ethical
bearing: carried on by Sokrates, the first against Polus, the second
against Kalliklés. Both these two are represented as voluble
speakers, of confident temper, regarding the acquisition of poli-
tical power and oratorical celebrity as the grand objects of life.
Polus had even composed a work on Rhetoric, of which we know
nothing : but the tone of this dialogue would seem to indicate .
(as far as we can judge from such evidence) that the style of the
work was affected, and the temper of the author flippant.

Here, as in the other dialogues above noticed, the avowed aim
Purpose of of Sokrates is—first, to exclude long speaking—next,
Sokratesin to get the question accurately conceived, and answered

nestioning. in an appropriate manner. Specimens are given of
of Be cod unsuitable and inaccurate answers, which Sokrates

corrects. The conditions of a good definition are
made plain by contrast with bad ones; which either include
much more than the thing defined, or set forth what is accessory
and occasional in place of what is essential and constant. These
tentatives and gropings to find a definition are always instructive,

that Plato composed ne m his Bret bet bable. Ban ener I do not at all
shortly after returning fro t ieve that Aristophanes in the Ek-
allusion to the

voyare to to Sicily, 887 B tnakou any
shall not contradict this: but I ἦ see Bopubil of Plato. Nor shall I believe,

nothing to prove it. Atthe same tim some evidence is produced, that

Schleiermacher assumes as certain that the Republic was composed at so early

Aristophanes in the Ekklesiazuse al- a date as 890 B.C.

ludes bo the doctrines published by 1 Plato ores pp. 447-448 A. The

Plato in his Republic (Einleitang yam ee posed to be carried on

Gorgias, p. 20). y persons, seem-
statements ther, the nme jotare velo πὸ “the a fant of the
be later in date of Codie think

the Republic, which I

Crap. XXIV. DEFINITION OF RHETORIC. 319

and must have been especially so in the Platonic age, when logi-
cal distinctions had never yet been made subject of separate
attention or analysis.

About what is Rhetoric as a cognition concerned, Gorgias ?
Gorg.—About words or discourses. Sokr.—About Questions
what discourses? such as inform sick men how they §Dout the
are to get well? Gorg.—No. Sokr.—It is not then of Rhetoric.
about all discourses? Gorg.—It makes men compe- artisan of
tent to speak : of course therefore also to think, upon Persuasion.
the matters on which they speak.! Sokr.—But the medical and
gymnastic arts do this likewise, each with reference to its respec-
tive subject: what then is the difference between them and
Rhetoric? Gorg.—The difference is, that each of these other
arts tends mainly towards some actual work or performance, to
which the discourses, when required at all, are subsidiary : but
Rhetoric accomplishes every thing by discourses alone.? Sokr.—
But the same may be said about arithmetic, geometry, and other
sciences. How are they distinguished from Rhetoric? You
must tell me upon what matters the discourses with: which
Rhetoric is conversant turn ; just as you would tell me, if I
asked the like question about arithmetic or astronomy. Gorg.—
The discourses, with which Rhetoric is conversant, turn upon
the greatest of all human affairs. Sokr.—But this too, Gorgias,
is indistinct and equivocal. Every man, the physician, the
gymnast, the money-maker, thinks his own object and his own
affairs the greatest of all* Gorg.—The function of .Rhetoric, is
to persuade assembled multitudes, and thus to secure what are in
truth the greatest benefits: freedom to the city, political com-
mand to the speaker.‘ Sokr.—Rhetoric is then the artisan of
persuasion. Its single purpose is to produce persuasion in the
minds of hearers? Gorg.—It is so.

‘Sokr.—But are there not other persons besides the Khetor,
who produce persuasion? Does not the arithmetical The Rhetor

teacher, and every other teacher, produce persuasion ? fief of without

1 Plato, Gorgias, Ὁ. 449 E. Οὐκοῦν 3 Plato, Gorgias, pp. 451-452.
περὶ ὧνπερ λέγειν, καὶ φρονεῖν; Πῶς γὰρ 4 Plato, Gorgias, p. 452 Ὁ. Ὅπερ
ἔστι τῇ ἀληθείᾳ μέγιστον ἀγαθόν, καὶ
τς Plato, Gorgias, p. 450 B-C. αἴτιον, ἅμα μὲ ἐλευθερίας « αὐτοῖς τοῖς
ῥητορικῆς. ..- πᾶσα ΓῚ τ δα καὶ ΤῊ ἀνθρώποις, ἅμα δὲ τοῦ ἄλλων ἄρχειν ἐν
κύρωσις διὰ λόγων ἐστίν. . τῇ αὑτοῦ πόλει ἑκάστῳ.

320 GORGIAS. Crap. XXIV.

Knowledge. How does the Rhetor differ from them? What mode
matters is of persuasion does he bring about? Persuasion about
hecompe- what? Gorg.—I reply—it is that persuasion which is
advise? brought about in Dikasteries, and other assembled

multitudes—and which relates to just and unjust.1 Sokr.—You ~

recognise that to have learnt and to know any matter, is one

thing—to believe it, is another: that knowledge and belief are
different—knowledge being always true, belief sometimes false ?
Gorg.—Yes. Sokr.—We must then distinguish two sorts of per-
guasion : one carrying with it knowledge—the other belief with-
out knowledge. Which of the two does the Rhetor bring about ?
Gorg.—That which produces belief without knowledge. He can
teach nothing. Sokr.—Well, then, Gorgias, on what matters
will the Rhetor be competent to advise? When the people are
deliberating about the choice of generals or physicians, about the
construction of docks, about practical questions of any kind—
there will be in each case a special man informed and competent
to teach or give counsel, while the Rhetor is not competent.
Upon what then can the Rhetor advise—upon just and unjust—
nothing else ?? .

The Rhetor (says Gorgias) or accomplished public speaker, will
give advice about all the matters that you name, and
canper- | Others besides. He will persuade the people and carry
suadethe = them along with him, even against the opinion of the
any matter, special Expert. He will talk more persuasively than
the reine the craftsman about matters of the craftsman’s own
Cal export, business. The power of the Rhetor is thus very
He appears great: but he ought to use it, like all other powers,
among the for just and honest purposes; not to abuse it for
ignorant. wrong and oppression. If he does the latter, the
misdeed is his own, and not the fault of his teacher, who gave
his lessons with a view that they should be turned to proper use.
If a man, who has learnt the use of arms, employs them to com-
‘mit murder, this abuse ought not to be imputed to his master of
arms.®

You mean (replies Sokrates) that he, who has learnt Rhetoric
from you, will become competent not to teach, but-to persuade

1 Plato. Gorgias, p. 454 B. 3 Plato, Gorgias, p. 456 D.
} Ps Plato, Gorgias, pp. 456-457. - p

Cuar. XXIV. FUNCTION AND PROVINCE OF RHETORS.

321

the multitude :—that is, comipetent among the ignorant. He has
acquired an engine of persuasion ; so that he will appear, when
addressing the ignorant, to know more than those who really do

know.!

Thus far, the conversation is carried on between Sokrates and

Gorgias. But the latter is now made to contradict
himself—apparently rather than really—for the argu-
ment whereby Sokrates reduces him toa contradic-
_ tion, is not tenable, unless we admit the Platonic doc-

trine that the man who has learnt just and unjust, ba

may be relied on to act as a just man ;? in other
words, that virtue consists in knowledge.

Polus now interferes and takes up the conversation :

ing Sokrates to furnish what he thinks the proper

definition of Rhetoric. Sokrates obeys, in a tone of pote.

pungent polemic. Rhetoric (he says) is no art at all,
but an empirical knack of catering for the pleasure
and favour of hearers ; analogous to cookery.* It is
a talent falling under the general aptitude called
Flattery ; possessed by some bold spirits, who are
forward in divining and adapting themselves to the
‘temper of the public.‘ It is not honourable, but a
mean pursuit, like cookery. It is the shadow or false
imitation of a branch of the political art.5 In refe-
rence both ‘to the body and the mind, there are two
different conditions: one, a condition really and truly

nition of

1 Plato, Gorgias, p. 459 B. Οὐκοῦν
καὶ περὶ τὰς ἄλλας ἁπάσας τέχνας ὡσαύ-
τως ἔχει ὃ ῥήτωρ καὶ ἡἢὶ ῥητορική" αὑτὰ
μὰν τ τ ane, ingen οὐδὲν δεῖ αὐτὴν εἰδέναι

ἔχει, μη ν δέ τινα “πειθοῦς εὑρη-
κέναι αι, ὥστε ἀαίνεσθαι τοῖς οὐκ εἰδόσι
μᾶλλον εἰδέναι τῶν εἰδότων.
3 Plato, Gorgias, p. 460 B. ὁ τὰ
δίκαια μεμαθηκώς, δίκαιος. Aristotle
notices this confusion of Sokrates, who
falls into it also in the conversation
with Euthydemus, Xenoph. Memorab.

iv.
. "alate, ας , Gorgias, 462 C. ἐμπειρία
ς τινος καὶ ἡδονῆς ἀπερ-
σίας. sate Philébus (pp. 56-56)
ἰατρικὴ ᾿
tes treats ἰατρικὴ differently, as

falling short of the idea of τέχνη, and
coming much nearer to what is here
called ἐμπειρία ΟΣ στοχαστική. Ask-
disp. with the

jades leased
Thracian Dio Dionysius

for calling
ματικὴ by the name of ΡΝ ripe faatond
of τέχνη : see Sextus Em
Grammat. s. BT-T2, p. 615, aia

4 Plato, Gorgias, Ὁ. 468 A. δοκεῖ poe
εἶναί τι ἐπιτήδευμα, τεχνικὸν μὲν οὔ,
ψυχῆς δὲ στοχαστικῆς καὶ ἀνδρείας καὶ

“ φύσει δεινῆς π προσομιλεῖν τοῖς ἀνθρώποις"

αὐτοῦ ἐγὼ τὸ κεφάλαιον κολα-
ΩΝ

lato, Gorgias, p. 463 Ὦ. πολι-
nage, popiov εἴδωλον.

2—21

322 GORGIAB. Cuap. XXIV.

generalhead good—the other, good only in fallacious appearance,
flattery. and not so in reality. To produce, and to verify, the
really good condition of the body, there are two specially quali-
fied professions, the gymnast or trainer and the physician : in
regard to the mind, the function of the trainer is performed by
the law-giving power, that of the physician by the judicial power.
Law-making, and adjudicating, are both branches of the political
art, and when put together make up the whole of it. Gymnastic
and medicine train and doctor the body towards its really best
condition : law-making and adjudicating do the same in regard
to the mind. To each of the four, there corresponds a sham .
counterpart or mimic, a branch under the general head flattery—
taking no account of what is really best, but only of that which
is most agreeable for the moment, and by this trick recommend-
ing itself to a fallacious esteem. Thus Cosmetic, or Ornamental
Trickery, is the counterfeit of Gymnastic; and Cookery the
counterfeit of Medicine. Cookery studies only what is imme-
diately agreeable to the body, without considering whether it be
good or wholesome : and does this moreover, without any truly
scientific process of observation or inference, but simply by an
empirical process of memory or analogy. But Medicine exa-
mines, and that too by scientific method, only what is good and
wholesome for the body, whether agreeable or not. Amidst
ignorant men, Cookery slips in as the counterfeit of medicine ;
pretending to know what food is good for the body, while it really
knows only what food is agreeable. In like manner, the artifices
of ornament dress up the body to a false appearance of that vigour
and symmetry, which Gymnastics impart to it really and intrin-

sically.
\) The same analogies hold in regard to the mind. Sophistic is
Distinction the shadow or counterfeit of law-giving : Rhetoric, of

‘between the

truearts judging or adjudicating. The lawgiver and the judge
at the ford aim at what is good for the mind: the Sophist and

-of the

1 Plato, Gorgias, p. 464 Ὁ. τεττά-
ipwy δὴ τούτων οὐσῶν, καὶ ἀεὶ πρὸς τὸ
βέλτιστον θεραπενουσῶν, τῶν μὲν τὸ
σῶμα, τῶν δὲ τὴν ψυχήν, ἡ κολακευτικὴ
αἰσθομένη, ov γνοῦσα A ἀλλὰ στοχα-
σαμένη, τέτραχα ἕαντην διανείμασα,

the Rhetor aim at what is agreeable to it. This dis-

ὑποδῦσα ὑπὸ ἕκαστον τῶν μορίων,
προσ ποιεῖται εἶναι τοῦτο ἕπερ ὑπεδυ"
καὶ τοῦ μὲν βελτίστον οὐδὲν φροντίζει,
τῷ δὲ ἀεὶ ἡδίστῳ θηρεύεται τὴν ἄνοια»
καὶ ἐξαπατᾷ, ὥστε δοκεῖ πλείστον ἀξία
εἶναι.

CHaPp. XXIV. SOKRATES ON RHETORIC AND THE RHETOR. 323

and mind—
and the
counterfeit
arts, which
retend to
he same,
but in rea-
lity aim at
immediate
pleasure.

tinction between them (continues Sokrates) is true
and real: though it often happens that the Sophist
is, both by himself and by others, confounded with
and mistaken for the lawgiver, because he deals with
the same topics and occurrences : and the Rhetor, in
the same manner, is confounded with the judge.
The Sophist and the Rhetor, addressing themselves to
the present relish of an undiscerning public, are enabled to
usurp the functions and the credit of their more severe and
far-sighted rivals. .
This is the definition given by Sokrates of Rhetoric and of
the Rhetor. Polus then asks him: You say that Questions
Rhetoric is a branch of Flattery : Do you think that of Polus.
good Rhetors are considered as flatterers in their re-
spective cities? Sokr—I do not think that? they
are considered at all. Polus——How! not considered ἢ
Do not good Rhetors possess great power in their re-
spective cities? Sokr.—No: if you understand the
possession of power as a good thing for the possessor.
Polus.—I do understand it so. Sokr.—Then I say that the
Rhetors possess nothing beyond the very minimum of power.
Polus.— How can that be? Do not they, like despots, kill, im-
poverish, and expel any one whom they please? Sokr.—I admit
that both Rhetors and Despots can do what seems good to them-
selves, and can bring penalties of death, poverty, or exile upon

- 1 Plato, Gorgias, p. 465 C. διέστηκε
μὲν οὕτω φύσει" ἂν δὲ ἐγγὺς ὄντων
ν τῷ αὑτῷ καὶ περὶ ταῦτ

οἱ ρωποι τούτοις
τὸ ie designates being
as
confounded together are, the hi
wi Aging: with

th the lawgiver, the

to
the physician. Heindorf sua
the persons designated as
founded are, the Sophist wi
Rhetor ; which I cannot think to be
m of Plato. .
8 Plat. Gorg. p. 466 B. Polus. °Ap’

the to

οὖν δοκοῦσί σοι ὡς κόλακες ἐν ταῖς πόλεσι
φαῦλοι νομίζεσθαι οἱ ἀγαθοὶ ῥήτορες ;
. « » - Sokr. Οὐδὲ νομέζεσθαι ἔμοιγε
δοκοῦσιν.

The play on words here—for I see
no else in it—can be expressed
in Eng as well as in Greek. It
has very little pertinence ; because, as a
matter of fact, the Rhetors certainly
had considerable importance, whether
they deserved it or not. How little
P cared to make his comparisons
harmonise with the fact, may be
seen by what immediately follows—
where he com the Rhetors
ts? and puts in the mouth
of Polus the assertion that they
kill or banish any one whom they
choose.

324 GORGIAS. Cuap. XXIV.

‘others : but I say that nevertheless they have no power, because
Δ they can do nothing which they really wish.’

That which men wish (Sokrates lays down as a general propo-
All men sition) is to obtain good, and’ to escape evil. Each
wish for —_ separate act which: they perform, is performed not
for -with a view to its own special result, but with a view

potsand to these constant and paramount ends. Good things,—
they OF Profitable things (for Sokrates alternates the

killanyone, phrases as equivalent), are wisdom, health, wealth,
do they and other such thin Evil ing are Ue Stra
think it of these? Many things are in ves neither

If nor evil,.but may become one or the other,
et gond. according to circumstances—such as stones, wood, the
they donot acts of sitting still or moving, ἄς. When we do any
they will, of these indifferent acts, it is with a view to the pur-
and there: | suit of good, or to the avoidance of evil: we do not wish
realpower. for the act, we wish for its good or profitable results.
We do every thing for the sake of good: and if the results are
really good or profitable, we accomplish what we wish: if the
contrary, not. Now, Despots and Rhetors, when they kill or
banish or impoverish any one, do so because they think it will
be better for them, or profitable.* If it be good for them, they
do what they wish: if evil for them, they do the contrary of
what they wish—and therefore have no power.

To_do evil (continues Sokrates), is the worst thing that can
ha to any one; the evil-doer is the most miserable an
pitiable of men. The person who suffers evil is unfortunate, and
is to be pitied ; but much less unfortunate and less to be pitied
than the evil-doer. If I have a concealed dagger in the public
market-place, I can kill any one whom I choose: but this is no
good to me, nor is it a proof of great power, because I shall be
forthwith taken up and punished. The result is not profitable,

1 Plato, Gorgias, p. 466 E. οὐδὲν 8 Plato, Gorgias, p. 468 B-C. οὐκοῦν
γὰρ ποιεῖν ὧν βούλονται, ὡς ἕπος εἰπεῖν" καὶ ἀποκτίννυμεν, et τιν᾽ & ,
ποιεῖν μέντοι ὃ, τι ἂν αὐτοῖς δόξῃ βέλτισςο .. . . οἷόμενοι ἄμεινον εἶναι ἡμῖν ταῦτα
τον εἶναι. ἥ μή; ... ἕνεκ᾽ ἄρα τοῦ ἀγαθοῦ ἅπαντα

3 Plato, Gorgias, p. 467 E. Οὐκοῦν ταῦτα ποιοῦσιν οἱ ποιοῦντες . . - - ἐὰν
λέγεις εἶναι ἀγαθὸν μὲν σοφίαν τε μὲν .ὠφέλιμα ¥ ταῦτα, βονλόμεθα πράτ-
και ὑγίειαν και πλοῦτον καὶ τἄλλα Tew αὐτά“ βλαβερὰ δὲ ὄντα, οὗ βονλό-
τὰ τοιαῦτα, κακὰ δὲ τἀναντία τούτων; μεθα... .. τὰ γὰρ ἀγαθὰ βονλόμεθα,

*Eywye. ys ov, &e.

Cuap. XXIV. THE EVIL-DOER IS MOST MISERABLE. 325

but hurtful: therefore the.act is not good, nor is the power to do
it either good or desirable.! It is sometimes good to kill, banish,
‘or impoverish—sometimes bad. It is good when you do it

justly: bad, when you do it unjustly.?
Polus.—A child can refute such doctrine.

Archelaus King of Macedonia. Is he, in your opi-

nion, happy or miserable? Sokr.—I do. not know: I

have never been in his society. Polus.—Cannot you.

tell without that, whether he is happy or not? Sokr.
—No, certainly not. Polus.—Then you will not call
even the Great King happy? Sokr.—No: I do not
᾿ know how he stands in respect to education and jus-

tice. Polus.—What! does all happiness consist in
that? Sokr.—I say that it does. I maintain that the

good and honourable man or woman is happy : the
ὁ yas and wicked, mSSTavIE” —Pone—Ther A ἘΣ Polus.—Ttien Arche-

to your doctrine? Sokr. thei

—Assuredly, if he is wicked. Polus.—Wicked, of

You have heard of

every one

80
—Sokrates
admits that
every one
t 80,
but never-
ess
denies it.

course ; since he has committed enormous crimes: but he has
obtained complete kingly power in Macedonia. Is there any
Athenian, yourself included, who would not rather be Archelaus
than any other man in Macedonia?‘ Sokr.—All the public, with
Nikias, Perikles, and the most eminent men among them, will
agree with you in declaring Archelaus to be happy. I alone do
not agree with you. You, like a Rhetor, intend to overwhelm
me and gain your cause, by calling a multitude of witnesses: I
shall prove my case without calling any other witness than your-
self.> Do you think that Archelaus would have been a happy man,
if he had been defeated in his conspiracy and punished? Polus.—
Certainly not: he would then have been very miserable. Sokr.
—Here again I differ from you: I think that Archelaus, or any
other wicked man, is under all circumstances miserable ; but he

is less miserable, if afterwards punished, than he would be if

1 Plato, Gorgias, p.. 460-470. av μὴ σὲ αὐτὸν ἕνα ὄντα μάρτυρα παράσ-
8 Plato, Gorgias, Ὁ. 470 C. GL ὁμολογοῦντα πέρι WY λέγω, ονθέν

ϑΐἷμαι ἄξιον λόγον πεπεράνθαι περὶ ὧν
8 Plato, Gorgias, p. 470 Ε. ἂν, Ἣ ᾿λόγὸς fio δὲ οὐδὲ σοί,

4 Plato, Gorgias, p. 471 ΒΟ. ἐὰν μὴ σοι μαρτυρῶ εἷς ὧν μόνος,
» Pp. 412 Β. ᾿Αλλ᾽ τοὺς δ᾽ ἄλλους πάντας τούτους χαίρειν

δ Plato, Go 7 \ ο
ἐγώ σοι εἷς ὧν οὐχ ὁμολογῶ. . . . ἐγὼ δὲ ἐᾷς.

326 GORGIAS. Cap. XXIV.

unpunished and successful! Polus.—How say you? If a man,
unjustly conspiring to become despot, be captured, subjected to
torture, mutilated, with his eyes burnt out and with many other
outrages inflicted, not only upon himself but upon his wife and
children—do you say that he will be more happy than if he
succeeded in his enterprise, and passed his life in possession of
undisputed authority over his city—envied and extolled as
happy, by citizens and strangers alike?* Sokr.—More happy, I
shall not say : for in both cases he will be miserable; but he will
be less miserable on the former supposition. :
Sokr.—Which of the two is worst: todo wrong, or to suffer
wrong? Polus.—To suffer wrong. Sokr.—Which of
Sokrates the two is the most ugly and disgraceful? Polus.—
—1. That it To do wrong. Sokr.—If more ugly and disgraceful,
eviltodo isit not then worse? Polus.——By no means. Sokr.
qrong than __You do not think then that the good—and the fine
yroug. =, «OF honourable—are one and the same ; nor the bad—
amanhas and the ugly or disgraceful ? Polus.—No : certainly
done wrong, not. Sokr.—How is this? Are not all fine or honour-
forhimto able things, such as bodies, colours, figures, voices,
' pursuits, &., so denominated from some common
punished. Property? Are not fine bodies said to be fine, either
from rendering some useful service, or ‘from affording
some pleasure to the spectator who contemplates them?® And
are not figures, colours, voices, laws, sciences, &c., called fine or
honourable for the same reason, either for their agreeableness or
their usefulness, or both? Polus.—Certainly : your definition of
the fine or honourable, by reference to pleasure, or to good, is
satisfactory. Sokr.—Of course therefore the ugly or disgraceful
must be defined by the contrary, by reference to pain or to evil ?
Polus.—Doubtless.‘ Sokr.—If therefore one thing be finer or

1 Plato, Gorgias, p. 478 C. κάλλος ὡσαύτως; Ἂ Pol. gud γε" καὶ
2 Plato, G 473 D. καλῶς νῦν ὁρίζει, ἡδονῇ τε κα
orgias, Ῥ. 47 ayad Τὴ ζόμενος τὸ καλόν. ἢ sokr. οἷς

5 Plat. Gorg. p. 474 Ὁ. ἐὰν ἐν τῷ
θεωρεῖσθαι χαίρειν, ποιῇ τοὺς θεωροῦν- καὶ κακὸ Pod dyn λύπῃ τε

τας A little farther on βλαβὴ is used as
‘ Plato, Gorgias, p. 474 E. Sokr. equivalent to κακόν. κτλ words—
Kai μὴν τά ye κατὰ ἔς νόμους καὶ τὰ καλόν, αἱ very difficult to trans-

ἐπιτηδεύματα, οὐ εἶς ἐκτὸς ζούτων late properly) introduce a reference to
ἐστὶ τὰ καλά, τοῦ ἣ Ww έλιμα εἶναι ἢ the feeling or judgment of spectators
ἡδέα ἢ ἀμφότερα. Pol. Οὐκ ἔμοιγε or of an undefined public, not con-
δοκεῖ. Sokt. Οὐκοῦν καὶ τῶν μαθημάτων cerned either as agents or sufferers.

Cuap. XXIV. DOING WRONG—SUFFERING WRONG. 327

more honourable than anether, this is because it surpasses the
other either in pleasure, or in profit: if one thing be more ugly
or disgraceful than another, it must surpass that other either in
pain, or in evil? Polus.—Yea.

Sokr.—Well, then! what did you say about doing wrong and
suffering wrong? You said that to suffer wrong was Sokrates
the worst of the two, but todo wrong was the most fers proof
ugly or disgraceful. Now, if to do wrong be more of Pul a
disgraceful than to suffer wrong, this must be because Turpe—
it has a preponderance either of pain or of evil? Freefof
Polus.—Undoubtedly. Sokr.—Has it a preponder- point.
ance of pain? Does the doer of wrong endure more pain than
the sufferer? Polus.—Certainly not. Sokr.—Then it must have
a preponderance of evil? Polus.—Yes. Sokr.—To do wrong
therefore is worse than to suffer wrong, as well as more -
ful? Δ οὗνιδ.----1Ὁ appears so. -—since therefore it is both
worse and more disgraceful, I was right in affirming that neither
you, nor I, nor any one else, would choose to do wrong in pre-
ference to suffering wrong. Polus.—So it seems.!

Sokr.—Now let us take the second point—Whether it be the
greatest evil for the wrong-doer to be punished, or pice οἱ
whether it be nota still greater evil for him to remain the second
unpunished. If punished, the wrong-doer is of course point.
punished justly ; and are not all just things fine or honourable,
in so far as they are just?- Polus.—I think so. Sokr.—Whena
man does anything, must there not be some correlate which
suffers ; and must it not suffer in a way corresponding to what
the doer does? Thus if any one strikes, there must also be some-
thing stricken : and if he strikes quickly or violently, there must
be something which is stricken quickly or violently. And so, if
any one burns or cuts, there must be something burnt or cut.
As the agent acts, so the patient suffers. Polus.—Yes. Sokr.—
Now if a man be punished for wrong doing, he suffers what is
just, and the punisher does what is just? Polus——He does.
Sokr.—You admitted that all just things were honourable: there-
fore the agent does what is honourable, the patient suffers what
is honourable.* But if honourable, it.must be either agreeable—

1 Plato, Gorgias, p. 475 C-D. b. 80, where the contrary of this opi-
3.866 Aristotle, Rhet. 1. 9, p. 1306, ion is maintained, and maintained

328 GORGIAS., CHap. XXIV

or good and profitable. In this case, it is certainly not agreeable:
it must therefore be good and profitable. The wrong-doer there-

fore, when punished, suffers what is good and is prohited. Povus.
— Yes. —~oehat manner ee ΡΟΝλΟς t is, as I pre-
sume, by becoming better in his mind—by being relieved from
badness of mind. Polus.—Probably. Sokr.—Is not thts badness

of mind the greatest evil? In regard to wealth, the special
badness is poverty: in regard to the body, it is weakness,
sickness, deformity, ἄς. : in regard to the mind, it is ignorance,
injustice, cowardice, &c. Is not injystice, and other badness of
mind, the most disgraceful of the three? Polus.—Decidedly.
Sokr.—If it be most disgraceful, it must therefore be the worst.
Polus.—How? Sokr.—It must (as we before agreed) have the
greatest preponderance either of pain, or of hurt and evil. But
the preponderance is not in pain: for no one will say that the
being unjust and intemperate and ignorant, is more painful than
being poor and sick. The preponderance must therefore be great
in hurt and evil. Mental badness is therefore a greater evil than
either poverty, or and bodily deformity. It is the
greatest of human evils. Polus—It appears 80. 3 ἮΝ

ον labours ness ; indicial or Y punito from_in justice 7 an
mental, wickedness of mind UF these three relieving forces,
distemper, which is the most honourable? Polus.—The last, by

though not far. Sokr.—If most honourable, it confers either
ῬΑ, ἐς δ ™most pleasure or most profit? Polus—Yes. Sokr.—
Punishment Now, to go through medical treatment is not agree-
cure for able ; but it answers toa man to undergo the pain,
be wunished i order to get rid of a great evil, and to become well.
is best for He would be a happier man, if he were never sick:
he is less miserable by undergoing the painful treat-
ment and becoming well, than if he underwent no treatment and
remained sick. Just so the man who is mentally bad: the
happiest man is he who never becomes so; but if a man has
become so, the next best course for him is, to undergo punish-
ment and to get rid of the evil. The worst lot of all is, that of

1 Plato, Gorgias, p. 476 D-E. 2 Plato, Gorgias, p. 477 E.

Cuap. XXIV. PUNISHMENT, A RELIEF TO THE WRONGDOER. 329

him who remains mentally bad, without ever getting rid of
badness.!

This last, Polus (continues Sokrates), is the condition of Arche-
laus, and of despots and Rhetors generally. They M
possess power which enables them, after they have
committed injustice, to guard themselves -against
being punished : which is just as if a sick man were
to pride himself upon having taken precautions guchiont
against being cured. They see the pain of the cure, coe
but they are blind to ‘the profit of it; they are igno- ἃ _him
rant how much more miserable it is to have an—}pes:
unhealthy and unjust mind than an unhealthy body.2— re
There is therefore little use in Rhetoric: for our ang
object ought to be, to avoid doing wrong: our next——
object, if we have done wrong, not to resist or elude punishment
by skilful defence, but to present ourselves voluntarily and
invite it: and if our friends or relatives have done wrong, far
from helping to defend them, we ought ourselves to accuse them,
and to invoke punishment upon them also.* On the other
hand, as to our enemy, we ought undoubtedly to take precau-
tions against suffering any wrong from him ourselves: but if he
has done wrong to others, we ought to do all we can, by word or
deed, not to bring him to punishment, but to prevent him from
suffering punishment or making compensation : so that he may
live as long as possible in impunity.‘ These are the purposes
towards which rhetoric is serviceable. For one who intends to
do no wrong, it seems of no great use.°

This dialogue between Sokrates and Polus exhibits a represen-

1 Plato, Gorgias, p. 478 D-E.
3 Plato, Gorgias, Ὁ. 479 B. τὸ adye-
νὸν αὐτοῦ ᾿καθορᾷν, πρὸς δὲ τὸ τὸ ὠφέλιμον
λῶς ἔχειν, καὶ ἀγνοεῖν ὅσῳ ἀθλιώτε-
ρόν ἐστι μὴ ὑγιοῦς σώματος μὴ ὑγιεῖ
συνοικεῖν, ἀλλὰ σαθρᾷ καὶ ἀδίκῳ
καὶ ἀνοσίῳ.
8 Plato, Go Pp. 480 C, 508 B.

parior, i". καὶ αὑτοῦ καὶ υἱέος

“*iplato might bare pu > put this argument

into the mouth mas ἃ,

reason for indicting his own father
on the charge of murder: as I have
already observed in reviewing the
Huthyphron, which see above, vol. i.

+ Pisto, Gorgias, p. 481 A. ἐὰν δὲ
ἄλλον ἀδικῇ ὁ ὁ ἐχθρός, παντὶ τρόπῳ παρα-
σκεναστέον καὶ πράττοντα καὶ λέγοντα,

ὅπως μὴ δῷ δίκην. oe. ἐάν τε χρυσίον
ἡρπακὼς ἢ πολύ, μὴ ἀποδιδῷ τοῦτο, ἀλλ᾽
ἔχων ἀναλίσκηται . ἀδίκως καὶ ἀθέως,

5 Plato, Gorgias, p. 481.

330 GORGIAS. Cuap. XXIV.

tation of Platonic Ethics longer and more continuous than is
usual in the dialogues. JI have therefore given a tolerably
copious abridgment of it, and shall now proceed to comment
upon its reasoning. .

The whole tenor of its assumptions, as well as the conclusions
A t in which it ends, are so repugnant to received opi-
of Sokrates’ nions, that Polus, even while compelled to assent,
~ Doubt treats it as a paradox: while Kallikles, who now
by Hallion takes up the argument, begins by asking from Che-

whether he ~rephon—“ Is Sokrates réally in earnest, or is he only
seriously. jesting?”! Sokrates himself admits that he stands
almost alone. He has nothing to rely upon, except the consis-
tency of his dialecticse—and the verdict of philosophy.? This
however is a matter of little moment, in diseussing the truth and
value of the reasoning, except in so far as it involves an appeal to
the judgment of the public as a matter of fact. Plato follows out
the train of reasoning—which at the time presents itself to his
mind as conclusive, or at least as plausible—whether he may

agree or disagree with others.
: Ploto—has-senked-the-Bhelorin_the same category_as_the
Principle -—Despot; a classification upon which I say some-
by ‘Sobrates thing presently. But throughout the part of the
dialogue just extracted, he treats the original question
about Rhetoric as part of a much larger. ethical
view to the | question. Every_gne (argues Sokrates) wishes for
the attainment of good and for the avoidance of evil.
very one performs each separate act with a view not
to its own immediate end, but to one or other of
these permanent ends. In so far as he attains them, he is
happy : in s0 far as he either fails in attaining the good, or
incurs the evil, he is unhappy or miserable. The good and
honourable man or woman is happy, the unjust and wicked is
miserable. Power acquired or employed unjustly, is no boon to
the possessor: for he does not thereby obtain what he really
wishes, good or happiness; but incurs the contrary, evil

> Plato, Gorgias, p. 481. him to comment upon. True, but the

Plato, Gorgias, p. 482. speech of Polus is just as much the

3 I may be told that this comparison composition of Plato asthat of Sokrates.

is first made by Polus (p. 466 and Many readers of Plato are apt to forget
that Sokrates only takes it up from this.

Crap. XXIV. GOOD AND EVIL, HOW UNDERSTOOD. 331

and misery. The man who does wrong is more miserable than

he who suffers wrong: but the most miserable of all is he who
does and then remains unpunished for it.}

"Bolus ἐπ the other hand, contends, that Archelans, who has
“waded through slaughter” to the throne of Macedonia, is a
happy man both in his own feelings and in those of every one
else, envied and admired by the world generally : That to say—
Archelaus would have been more happy, or less miserable, if he
had failed in his enterprise and had been put to death under

cruel torture—is an untenable paradox.
The issue here turns, and the force of Plato’s argument rests

(assuming Sokrates to speak the real sentiments of
Plato), upon the peculiar sense which he gives to the

words Good—Evil—Happiness :—different from the αὶ

Peculiar

view taken
by Plato of
ood— Evil

sense in which they are conceived by mankind -ι δρρί-
generally, and which is here followed by Polus. It
is possible that to minds like Sokrates and Plato, the idea of
themselves committing enormous crimes for ambitious purposes
might be the most intolerable of all ideas, worse to contemplate
than any amount of suffering: moreover, that if they could
conceive themselves as having been thus guilty, the sequel the
least intolerable for them to imagine would be one of expiatory
pain. ‘This, taken as the personal sentiment of Plato, admits of
no reply. But when he attempts to convert this subjective
judgment into an objective conclusion binding on all, he fails of
success, and misleads himself by equivocal language.

Plato distinguishes two general objects of human desire, and
two of human aversion. 1. Th and

eimmediate, and Contrast of
Be ae Oe ee atthe Fleas αὶ the usual
able—Pain or the 2. The distant, ulterior, of these
and more permanent object—Good or the profitable— words ve

Evil or the hurtful. — e attainment of Good and Platonic
meaning.

avoidance of Evil consists EP 688. But now comes
impo: question—In what sense are we to understand the

-- ἅπερ ἅπαντες μὲν ἂν οἱ νοῦν ἔχοντες

- ἕλοιντο καὶ βονληθεῖεν, ὀλίγοι δέ τινες
85 τῶν προσποιουμένων εἶναι σοφῶν, ἐρωτη-
θέντες οὐκ ἂν dno

it as one which all men of sense wo In this last phrase Isokrates probably
reject, and which none but a few men has Plato in his mind, though without
*pretending to be wise wo pronouncing the name.

332 GORGIAS. Omar. XXIv.

words Good and Evil? What did Plato mean by them? Did
he mean the same as mankind generally? Have mankind
generally one uniform meaning? In answer to this question, we
must say, that neither Plato, nor mankind generally, are consis-
tent or unanimous in their use of the words: and that Plato
sometimes approximates to, sometimes diverges from, the more
usual meaning. Plato does not here tell us clearly what he
himself means by Good and Evil: he specifies no objective or
external mark by which we may know it: we learn only, that

Gegd_is a mental perfection—Eyil a mental taint—answering to
indescribable but characteristic sentiments in Plato’s own mind,

and only negatively determined by this circumstance—That they
have no reference either to pleasure or pain. In the vulgar
sense, Good stands distinguished from pleasure (or relief from
pain), and Evil from pain (or loss of pleasure), as the remote, the
causal, the lasting from the present, the product, the transient.
Good and Evil are explained by enumerating all the things so
called, of which enumeration Plato gives a partial specimen in
this dialogue: elsewhere he dwells upon what he calls the Idea
of Good, of which I shall speak more fully hereafter. Having
said that all men aim at good, he gives, as examples of

things— Wisdom, Health, Wealth, and other such things: while
the contrary of these, Stupidity, Sickness, Poverty, are evil
things: the list of course mig ~ mu 7
“Good and Evil generally to denote the common property of each
of these lists, it is true that men perform a large portion of their
acts with a view to attain the former and avoid the latter :—that
the approach which they make to happiness depends, speaking
generally, upon the success which attends their exertions for the
᾿ attainment of and avoidance of these permanent ends: and more-
over that these ends have their ultimate reference to each man’s
own feelings. .

But this meaning of Good is no longer preserved, when
Sokrates proceeds to prove that the triumphant usurper Arche-
laus is the most miserable of men, and that to do wrong with
impunity is the greatest of all evils.

Sokrates. provides a basis for his intended proof by asking
Examina-. Polus, which of the two is most disgraceful—To do

proof given wrong—or to suffer wrong? Polus answers—To do

1 Plat. Gorg. p. 474 C.

Crap. XXIV.

: and this answer is inconsistent with what he
had previously said about Archelaus. That prince,
though a wrong-doer on the largest scale, has been de-
clared by Polus to be an object of his supreme envy
and admiration : while Sokrates also admits that this
is the sentiment of almost all mankind, except him-
self. To be consistent with such an assertion, Polus

INCONSISTENT APPLICATION OF “ GOOD ”.

by Sokrates
—Inconsis-
tency be-
tween the
general
answer of
Polus and
his previous
tions
—Law and
Nature.

ought to have answered the contrary of what he does answer,
when the general question is afterwards put to him : or at least
he ought to have said—“Sometimes the one, sometimes the

other ”.

But this he is ashamed to do, as we shall find Kallikles

intimating at a subsequent stage of the dialogue :’ because of
King Nomos, or the established habit of the community—who
feel that society rests upon a sentiment of reciprocal right and
obligation animating every one, and require that violations of
that sentiment shall be marked with censure in general words,
however widely the critical feeling may depart from such censure
in particular cases.? Polus is forced to make profession of a

1 Plat. Gorg. p. 482C. To maintain
that τὸ ἀδικεῖν βέλτιον τοῦ ἀδικεῖσθαι
was an δοξος Poon thdote which it

ἤθους ἑλέσθαι : which to
thereline "Arista advises the dialec-
tician not to ἀφ Δ αν] (Aristot. Topic.
vii 156, 6-15).

ustration mm from the, third

chapter (pp. 99-101) of Adam Smith's
of Moral Sentiments, entitled,
on of our moral senti-
rata tease eh tad ah
e an

and to neglect or despise persons of
Phe and mean céndition”. He says—
disposition to admire and al-

ΣΝ the rich and the

pomerfa and to despise, or at least to

dition, of poor and mean con-
ion, ὦ thoug h ugh necessary both to esta-
the distinction of

stern, ὃ ob
admirers and

d what may seem more
, most frequently the dis-

οἵ ἶδ mankind

interested admirers and worshippers—
of wealth and greatness. .... I

t is
to good lan

eeable to good morals, v4 even

language, pr ps say

that” mere weal alth ‘ax tness, ab-

from merit and virtue, deserve

our respect. We must acknowledge,

however, that they almost constantly

obtain it: and that they may therefore

in a certain sense be considered as the
natural objects of it.”

Now Archelaus is a most co a

cuous example of this disposition of t
mass of mank

Smith in the last sentence παρὰ ΟΣ ἀάλιι
the conversation of Sokrates, Polus, and
Kalliklés. Adam Smith admita that
energetic proceedings, ending in great
power, such as those of Archelaus,

honour and worship from the
vast majority of disinterested specta-
tors: and that therefore they are in a
certain sense the natural objects of such
a sentiment (κατὰ φύσιν). But if the

poe, be put to him, Whether

jmnselt with dl thes small
minority, while Polus shares the opinion

334 . GORGIAS. Crap. XXIV.

faith, which neither he nor others (except Sokrates with a few
companions) universally or consistently apply. To bring such a
force to bear upon the opponent, was one of the known artifices
of dialecticians :! and Sokrates makes it his point of departure,
to prove the unparalleled misery of Archelaus.

He proceeds to define Pulchrum and Turpe (καλὸν-αἱσχρόνλ.
The defini. hen we recollect the Hippias Major, in which dia-
tion of Pul- logue many definitions of Pulchrum were canvassed
chram and and all rejected, so that the search ended in total dis-

ven SY § appointment—we are surprised to see that Sokrates
will not hits off at once a definition satisfactory both to him-
self and Polus: and we are the more surprised, be-
cause the definition here admitted without a remark, is in sub-
stance one of those shown to be untenable in the Hippias Major.*
It depends upon the actual argumentative purpose which Plato
has in hand, whether he chooses to multiply objections and give
them effect—or to ignore them altogether. But the definition
which he here proposes, even if assumed as incontestable, fails
altogether to sustain the conclusion that he draws from it. He

to be that which either confers pleasure upon
the spectator when he con it, or uces
or a —we must presume pro to the © spectator or to
ng_with of; ir

ὮΝ τς more evil (worse). It ea is not more painful
Ranta ο een reesstoOS

therefore it must be worse.
τ om a For me spectators, who declare the
Worse or®™ Pp ? For - the

better for e_persons who “suffer b his i ? Orfor Arche-
argument of us himself? It is the of the three which So-

does not tes undertakes to prove: but his definition does

of the large majority. But what is which men must make a show of hold-
required by King Nomos must be pro- , With those which they really do
fessed even. by dissentients, unlessthey ho 86£

krates.
1 Aristot. De Soph. Elench. pp. 172- Pp. 65-46. See
178, where he contrasts the opinions above, τὸ vol. ii. Hig, Ma

Cuap, XXIV. PULCHRUM AND TURPB. 335

not help him to the proof. Turpe is defined to be specify. If
understood
_cither whst_causes_ immediate pain to the spectator, in the sense
or ulterior hurt—to whom? If we say—to the spec- forhisin.
tator—the definition will not serve as a ground of ference, the
inference to the condition of the agent contemplated. would be in-
If on the other hand, we say—to the agent—the de- *dmissible.
finition so understood becomes inadmissible : as well for other
reasons, as because there are a great many Turpia which are not
agents at all, and which the definition therefore would not in-
clude. Either therefore the definition given by Sokrates is a bad
one—or it will not sustain his conclusion. And thus, on this
very important argument, where Sokrates admits that he stands
alone, and where therefore the proof would need to be doubly
cogent—an argument too where the great cause (so Adam Smith
terms it) of the corruption of men’s moral sentiments has to be
combated—Sokrates has nothing to produce except premisses
alike far-fetched and irrelevant. What increases our regret is,
that the real arguments establishing the turpitude of Archelaus
and his acts are obvious enough, if you look for them in the
right direction. You discover nothing while your eye is fixed
on Archelaus himself: far from presenting any indications of
misery, which Sokrates professes to discover, he has gained much
of what men admire as good wherever they see it. But when
you turn to the persons whom he has killed, banished, or ruined
—to the mass of suffering which he has inflicted—and to the
widespread insecurity which such acts of successful iniquity
apread through all societies where they become known—there is
no lack of argument to justify that sentiment which prompts
a reflecting spectator to brand him as a disgraceful man. This
argument however is here altogether neglected by Plato. Here,
as elsewhere, he looks only at the self-regarding side-of Ethics.
Sokrates proceeds next to prove—That the wrong-doer who
remains unpunished is more miserable than if he were
punished. The wrong-doer (he argues) when punished 32P.
suffers what is just : but all just things are honour- _standarq
able : therefore he suffers what is honourable. But ang tnigers
all honourable things are so called because they are pocubert
either agreeable, or profitable, or foth together. view

: . . : the conduct
Punishment is certainly not agreeable: it must of Arche:

336 GORGIAS. Cua. XXIV.

lansis just, therefore be profitable or good. Accordingly the
aot cose, wrong-doer when justly punished suffers what is pro-
true reasons fitable or good. He is benefited, by being relieved of
for it. mental evil or wickedness, which is a worse evil than
either bodily sickness or poverty. In proportion to the magni-
tude of this evil, is the value of the relief which removes it, and
the superior misery of the unpunished wrong-doer who continues
to live under it.?

Upon this argument, I make the. same remark as upon that
immediately preceding. We are not expressly told, whether
good, evil, happiness, misery, &c., refer to the agent alone or to
others also : but the general tenor implies that the agent alone is
meant. And in this sense, Plato does not make out his case.
He establishes an arbitrary standard of his own, recognised only
by a few followers, and altogether differing from the ordinary
standard, to test and compare happiness and misery. The suc-
cessful criminal, Archelaus himself, far from feeling any such
intense misery as Plato describes, is satisfied and proud of his
position, which most others also account an object of envy. This
is not disputed by Plato himself. And in the face of: this fact, it
is fruitless as well as illogical to attempt to prove, by an elabo-
rate process of deductive reasoning, that Archelaus must be mise-
rable. That step of Plato’s reasoning, in which he asserts, that
the wrong-doer when justly punished suffers what is profitable
or good—is only true if you take in (what Plato omits to men-
tion) the interests of society as well as those of the agent. His
punishment is certainly profitable to (conducive to the security
and well being of) society : it may possibly be also profitable to
himself, but very frequently it is not so. The conclusion brought
out by Plato, therefore, while contradicted by the fact, involves
also a fallacy in the reasoning process.

_ Throughout the whole of. this dialogue, Plato intimates de-
If ihe rer cidedly how great a paradox the doctrine maintained
Plato were’ by Sokrates must appear: how diametrically it was
point of opposed to the opinion not merely of the less informed
view in multitude, but of the wiser and more reflecting citizen

panish- _—even such a man as Nikias. Indeed it is literally

- Plato, Gorgias; pp. 477-478.

Cuar. Χχῖν. CONSEQUENCES OF ΡΙΑΤΟΒ THEORY. 337

exact—what Plato here puts into the mouth of Kalli- ment is
kles—that if the doctrine here advocated by Sokrates would be
were true, the whole of social life would be turned Teversed.
upside down. If, for_example, it were true, as Plato contends,
—That every man who commits a crime, takes upon him thereb
a terrible and lasting distemper, incurable except τ the applica-
fion of punis puns hment, which is the specific remedy in the case—
ev of punishment would, literally speaking, be turned
upside down "The great τΙτεσατα απο ΠΕ Hom Gime would then
consist in the fear of that formidable distemper with which the
criminal was sure to inoculate himself: and punishment, instead

ἦν .~ οὗ being (as it is mow considered, and as Plato himself represents

“it in the Protagoras) the great discouragement to the commission
of crime, would operate in the contrary direction. It would be
the means of removing or impairing the great real discourage-
ment to crime: and a wise legislator would hesitate to inflict it.
This would be nothing less than a reversal of the most univer-
sally accepted political or social precepts (as Kallikles is made to
express himself).

It will indeed be at once seen, that the taint or distemper with
which Archelaus is supposed to inoculate himself,
when he commits signal crime—is a pure fancy or pushes too
poetical metaphor on the part of Plato himself? A [ἅτ the ana-
distemper must imply something painful, enfeebling, tween men-
disabling, to the individual who feels it: there is no temper and
other meaning: we cannot recognise a distemper, tempor
which does not make itself felt in any way by the Material
distempered person. Plato is misled by his ever-re- between
peated analogy between bodily health and mental the.twor
health : real, on some points—not real on others. must be felt
When ἃ man is in bad bodily health, his sensations tempered
warn him of it at once. He suffers pain, discomfort, P°™*™

1 Plato, Gorg. p. 481 C. Kall.—<i Aristotle remarks it of him in respect to
μὲν γὰρ σπουδάζεις τε καὶ τυγχάνει his theory of Ideas; and Aristotle in his
ταῦτας HO ὄντα ἃ λέγεις, ἄλλο τι 4 ἸΤορίολ gives several precepts in regard

ὥ βίος ἀνατετραμμένος ἂν εἴη τῶν to the general tendency—precepts
er καὶ πάντα τὰ ἐναντία πράτ- joining disputants to be on their guard

μεν, ἣ ἃ δεῖ against it indial ectic discussion (Topica,
disposition n of Plato to build iv. 123, a. 83, vi. 130-140)—-wav yap ἀσαφὲς
argument ona metaphor is often shown. τὸ κατὰ μεταφορὰν λεγόμενον, ἄο.
2—22

. 338 GORGIAS. Cuap. XXIV.

or disabilities, which leave no doubt as to the fact: though he
' may not know either the precise cause, or the appropriate
remedy. Conversely, in the absence of any such warnings, and
in the presence of certain positive sensations, he knows himself
to be in tolerable or good health. If Sokrates and Archelaus
were both in good bodily health, or both in bad bodily health,
each would be made aware of the fact by analogous evidences.
But by what measure are we to determine when a man is in a
good or bad mental state? By his own feelings? In that case,
Archelaus and Sokrates are in a mental state equally good : each
is satisfied with his own. By the judgment of by-standers ?
Archelaus will then be the better of the two: at least his
admirers and enviers will outnumber those of Sokrates. By
my judgment? If my opinion is asked, I agree with Sokrates :
though not on the grounds which he here urges, but on other
grounds. Who is to be the ultimate referee—the interests
er security of other persons, who have suffered or are likely
to suffer by Archelaus, being by the supposition left out of
view ?

Polus is now dismissed as vanquished, aftér having been
forced, against his will, to concede—That the doer of wrong is
more miserable than the sufferer : That he is more miserable, if
unpunished,—less so, if punished : That a triumphant criminal
on a great scale, like Archelaus, is the most miserable of men.

Here, then, we commence with Kallikles: who interposes,

es to take up the debate with Sokrates. Polus (says
pegins to Kallikles), from deference to the opinions of man-
‘Aeninst So. Kind, has erroneously conceded the point—That it

krates—he is more diegraceful to do wrong, than to suffer wrong.
tinction be- is indeed true (continues Kallikles), according

bylaw and to what st by law or convention, that is, accord-
Just by na- j to. he general g¢ : OT KT Dut it is
ture—Reply ‘8

of Sokrates, not true, according to justice by nature, ar τα
that there is j tice. Nau and Law are here apposed.’ The

tenn ean the justice of Nature is, that among men (as among other
ly un- anl the stro 1nd1vi shou vern an

perl imals) th dividual should go d

lerstood. strip the weak AG and FSS τε UOT ἐν ET ping as much as

Δ Plato, Gorgias, p. 482 E. ὡς τὰ πολλὰ δὲ ταῦτα ἐναντία ἀλλήλοις ἐστίν,
ἥ τε φύσις καὶ ὁ νόμος.

Serene,
----

Crap. XXIV. JUSTICE ACCORDING TO LAW. 339

grasp. But this justice will not suit the weak, who are the many,
‘and who defeat it by establishing a different justice—justice
according to law—to curb the strong man, and prevent him from
having τ more than his fair share." The many feel ng thei

and thankful if they i

ent and oppression to which he is

just accoravng to law is thus a tutelary institution, biked be
the weak to defend themselves against the just according to nature.
mures_right by might, and hy nothing else: so that

according ἴο the right of nature, suffering wrong is more dis-
wena a it i ορπε δ

e, by the right of nature or of the strongest, without either
sale or gift.?

But-{cejoins Sokrates) the many are by nature stronger than
the one ; since, as you yourself say, they make and enforce laws
to restrain him and defeat his hae Therefore, since the

themselves in favour of the answer given by Polus—That to do
wrong is more disgraceful than to suffer wrong.’ Right by
nature, and right by institution, sanction it alike.

Several commentators have contended, that the doctrine which
Plato here puts into the mouth of Kalliklés was What Kal-
taught by the Sophists at Athens: who are said to liklés is not tbe
have inculcated on their hearers that true wisdom taken 8 asa
and morality consisted in acting upon the right of the te tach
the strongest and taking whatever they could get, ingeot ἀω
without any regard to law or justice. I have already sophists.

1 Plato, Gorgias, p. 488 B. ἀλλ, ἔχειν, ἵνα μὴ αὑτῶν πλέον ἔχωσιν, λέ-
οἶμαι, οἱ τιθέμενοι τοὺς νόμους οἱ daGe- γουσιν ὡς αἱ καὶ ἄδικον τὸ πλδονε-
vets ἄνθρωποί εἶσι καὶ οἱ πολλοὶ. Πρὸς κτεῖν, καὶ τοῦτό ἔστι τὸ ἀδικεῖν, τὸ ore
αὐτοὺς οὖν καὶ τὸ αὑτοῖς cy τούς τῶν ἄλλων πλέον ἔχειν" ἀγαπῶσι γάρ
τε νόμους τίθενται καὶ τοὺς ΐ οἶμαι, αὐτοὶ ἂν τὸ ἴσον ἔχωσι φαυλότεροι

τα ρονς ‘ Pp. 494-488.
τῶν ἀνθρώπων καὶ δυνατοὺς ὄντας πλέον 3 Plato, Gorgias, p. 488 D-E.

340 GORGIAS. Cuap, XXIV.

Kallikite endeavoured to show, in my History of Greece, that
politician. the Sophists cannot be shown to have taught either
this doctrine, or any other common doctrine : that one at least
among them (Prodikus) taught a doctrine inconsistent with it:
and that while all of them agreed in trying to impart rhetorical
accomplishments, or the power of handling political, ethical,
judicial, matters in a manner suitable for the Athenian public—
each had his own way of doing this. Kalliklés is not presented
by Plato as a Sophist, but as a Rhetor aspiring to active political
influence ; and taking a small dose of philosophy, among the
preparations for that end.! He depreciates the Sophists as much
as the philosophers, and in fact rather more. Moreover Plato
represents him as adapting himself, with accommodating subeer-
vience, to the Athenian public assembly, and saying or unsaying
exactly as they manifested their opinion. Now the Athenian
public assembly would repudiate indignantly all this pretended
right of the strongest, if any orator thought fit to put it forward
as over-ruling established right and law. Any aspiring or sub-
servient orator, such as Kalliklés is described, would know better
than to address them in this strain. The language which Plato
puts into the mouth of Kalliklés is noway consistent with the
attribute which he also ascribes to him—slavish deference to the
judgments of the Athenian Démos.

Kalliklés is made to speak like one who sympathises with the
Uncertainty Tight of the strongest, and who decorates such iniquity
of referring with the name and authority of that which he calls
anautho- Nature. But this only shows the uncertainty of re-
be vl ferring to Nature as an authority.‘ It may be
in favour pleaded in favour of different and opposite theories.
theories. | Nature prompts the strong man to take from weaker
Te erie men what will gratify his detires: Nature also
ismadeto prompts these weaker men to defeat him and protect

veby themselves by the best means in their power. The

1 Plato, Gorgias, p. 487 C, 485. the contradiction between the Just ac-
4 Plato, Goreias’ b. 520 A Nature and the Just accord-
3 Plato, Go Ῥ. 481-482. : which contradiction (Ari-
4 Aristotle ‘Sophie. Elench. 12, Ῥ. [δ δὲ 5) all the ancients
10) makes allusion is argu one (οὐ dpxaios πάντες ῴοντο
vee of iklés in the Gorgias and συμβαίνειν t was dor test he and
notices it asa ὦ uent point made made by on which the Dialectician find

disputantes in. ectics—to insist much to say on either side.

-CHar. XXIV. AUTHORITY OF NATURE, EQUIVOCAL. 341

the lan-
age in

ehich he
expresses it.

many are weaker, taken individually—stronger taken
collectively : hence they resort to defensive combina-
tion, established rules, and collective authority. The
right created on one side, and the opposite right created on the
other, flow alike from Nature: that is, from propensities and
principles natural, and deeply seated, in the human mind. The
authority of Nature, considered as an enunciation of actual and
wide-spread facts, may be pleaded for both alike. But a man’s
sympathy and approbation may go either with the one or the
other ; and he may choose to stamp that which he approves,

with the name of Nature asa personified law-maker.
what is here done by Kalliklés as Plato exhibits him?

1In the conversation between So-
krates and Kritobulus, one of the best
in Xenophon’s Memorabilia (ii. 6, 21),
respecting the conditions on whic
friendship depends, we find Sokrates
clear! stating that the causes of
frien ip and the causes of enmity,
though different and opposite, never-
theleas both exist by nature. ᾿Αλλ’
ἔχει μέν, ἔφη ὁ Σωκράτης, ποικίλως
πως ταῦτα: Φύσει γὰρ ἔχουσιν οἱ ἄν-
Spero: τὰ μὲν φιλικά---δόονταί τε γὰρ

ήλων, καὶ ἐλεοῦσι, καὶ συνεργοῦντες
ὠφελοῦνται, καὶ τοῦτο συνιέντες χάριν
ἔχονσιν ἀλλήλοις ---τὰ δὲ πολεμικά ---
τά Te γὰρ αὑτὰ καλὰ καὶ ἡδέα νομί-
ζοντες ὑπὲρ τούτων μάχονται καὶ διχο-

μονοῦντες ἐναντιοῦνται" πολεμικὸν

ἃ καὶ ἔρις καὶ ὀργή, καὶ δυσμενὲς μὲν

6 τοῦ πλεονεκτεῖν ἔρως, μισητὸν δὲ ὁ
φθόνος. ᾿"Αλλ᾽ ὅμως διὰ τούτων πάντων
ἢ φιλία διαδνομένη συνάπτει τοὺς καλούς
τε κἀγαθούς

We read in the speech of Hermo-
krates the Syracusan, at the congress
of Gela in Sicily, when exhorting the
Sicilians to te for the purpose of
Tepelling the ambitious schemes of
Athens, Thucyd. iv. 61: καὶ τοὺς μὲν
᾿Αθηναίους ταῦτα πλεονεκτεῖν τε καὶ
προνοεῖσθαι πολλὴ ξυγγνώμη, καὶ οὐ
τοῖς ἄρχειν βουλομένοις μέμφο
τοῖς ὑπακούειν ἐτοιμοτέροις οὖσι" we
pune γὰρ τὸ ἀνθρώπειον διὰ
παντὸς ἄρχειν μὲν τοῦ εἴκον-
τος, φνλάσσεσθαι δὲ τὸ ἐπιόν.
ὅσοι δὲ γιγνώσκοντες αὑτὰ μὴ ὀρθῶς
προσκοποῦμεν, μηδὲ τοῦτό τις πρεσ-
βύτατον ἥκει κρίνας, τὸ κοινῶς φοβερὸν
ἅπαντας εὖ θέσθαι, ἁμαρτάνομεν. Α
like sentiment is pronounced by the
Athenian envoys in their debate with
the Melians, uc. v. 105: ἡγούμεθα

This is
He

γὰρ τό τε θεῖον δόξῃ, τὸ ἀνθρώπειόν

τε σαφῶς διὰ παντός, ὑπὸ φύσεως
ἀναγκαίας, οὗ ἂν κρατῇ, ἄρχειν.
Some of the Platonic critics would have
us believe that this last-cited sentiment
emanates from the corrupt teaching of
the Syracaseh bad nothing to do with
e Syracusan no ο

Athenian Sophists.

eand indetermi-

2 Respecting thev
nate phrases— Justice, Natural

Right, Law of Nature—see Mr. Aus-
tin’s Province of Jurisprudence Deter-
mined, p. 160, ed. 2nd. (Jurisp., 4th ed.
pp. 179, 591-2}, and Sir H. S. Maine’s
Ancient Law, chapters iii. and iv.
Among the assertions made about
the Athenian Sophists, it is said Ὁ
ottee commentators nat the d
ether any Jast or Unjust by nature
—that they ised no Just or Un-
mr τ te th "Sophis peaking
Ὁ say θ fs (8
of them collectively) either afinned or

denied thing, is, in my ju ent
incorrect.” Certain persons axe sllvded
to by Plato (Thestét. 172 B) as adopt-
ing partially the doctrine of Prota-
goras (Homo Mensura) and as denying
altogether the Just by nature.

In another Platonic passage (Pro-
tagor. 337) which is also cited as con-
tributing to prove that the Sophists
denied τὸ δίκαιον dice—nothing at
all is said about τὸ δίκαιον. Hippias
the pe τὰ bys there introduced an on

eavou appease the
ing between Protagoras and tes
by remin them, “1 am of opinion
that we all (%.c. men of literature and
study) are kinsmen, friends, and fellow-
citizens by nature though not by law:
for law, the despot of mankind, carries

242

GORGIAS.

CHaPp. XXIV.

sympathises with, and approves, the powerful individual. Now
the greater portion of mankind are, and always have been,
governed upon this despotic principle, and brought up to respect.
it: while many, even of those who dislike Kalliklés because

many things by force, contrary to na-
ture”. The remark is very appropriate
from one who is trying to restore good
feeling between literary disputants : and
the cosmopolitan character of litera-
ture is now so familiar a theme, that
Iam ised to find Heindorf (in his
ing the ing itan occasion for ow-
censure upon Sophist,
because some of them disti ed
Nature from the Laws, and despised the
latter in comparison with the former.
Kalliklés here, in the Gorgias, main-

tains an opinion not only different proposi

from, but inconsistent with, the opinion
alluded to above in the Theztétus,
172 B. The noticed in the
Thesetétus said—There is no Natural
Justice : no Justice, except Justice by
Law. Kalliklés says—There is a Na-
taral Justice quite distinct from (and
which he esteems more than) Justice
‘by Law: he then explains what he
believes Natural Justice to be—That
the strong man should take what he
pleases from the weak.

Though these two opinions are really
inconsistent with each other, yet we see
Plato in the Leges (x. 889 E, 890 A)
alluding to them both as the same
creed, held and defended by the same
men; whom he denounces with ex-
treme acrimony. Who they were, he
does not name; he does not mention
σοφισταί, but calls them ἀνδρῶν σοφῶν,
ἰδιωτῶν Te Kai ποιητῶν.

We see, in the third chapter of Sir
H. 8. Maine’s excellent work on Ancient
Law, the mean of these phrases—
δαί σραῦοα, ματα ἧς a ot

or inclu “a o

nciples entitled to supersede the ex-
laws, on the und of intrinsic
superiority”. It denoted an ideal
condition of society, supposed to be
much better than what actually pre-
vailed. This at least seems to have
been the meaning which began to
attach to it in the time of Plato and
Aristotle. What this ideal perfection
of human society was, varied in the
minds of different speakers. In each

speakers mind the word and senti-

ment was much the same, though the
objects to which it attached were often
erent. Empedokles proclaims in

_Aristip

own satisfaction, that
thoroughly in harmony with
of Nature: and he insists especially |

this harmony, in the very point which
even the Platonic ics admit to be

ing o
sexes (Republic, v. 456 C, 466
We learn from Plato himself

itions of the Republic were
thoroughly adverse to what other
persons reverenced as the Law of

Protagor, p. 887 we read, “Hipplas
on Yr. p. we ** Hi
pree ceteris Sophistis contempsit
lisque opposuit Naturam. WN:
legibus plures certé Sophistarum o
suisse, easque pre contem
multis veterum locis constat.” Now
this allegation is more applicable to
Plato than to the So Plato
ἘΣ eng
contemp
their laws : the scheme of his Republic,
radically departing from them as it
does. shows what he considered as
required by the exigencies of human
nature. Both the Stoics and the Epi-
kureans extolled what they called the
Law of Nature above any laws actually
existing.

The other charge made against the
Sophists (quite opposite, yet some-
times advanced by the same critics)
18, ey recognised no
Nature, but only Just by Law: ie. ail
the actual laws and customs considered
as binding in each different commu-
nity. This is what Plato ascribes to
some persons (Sophists or not) in the
Theetétus, p. 172. But in this sense
it is not exact to call Kalliklés (as
Heindorf does, Protagor. p. 837) “ ger-
manus ille Sophistarum alumnus in
Gorgid Callicles,” nor to affirm (with
Schlieiermacher, Einleit. zum Thestét.
p. 188) that Plato meant to refute Ari-
stippus under the name of

pus maintaining that there was.

no Just by Nature, but only Just by
Law or Convention.

παρ. XXIV. SYMPATHY WITH THE POWERFUL MAN. 343

they regard him as the représentative of Athenian democracy (to
which however his proclaimed sentiments stand pointedly op-
posed), when they come across a great man or so-called hero, such
as Alexander or Napoleon, applaud the most exorbitant ambition
if successful, and if accompanied by military genius and energy—
regarding communities as made for little else except to serve as
his instruments, subjects, and worshippers. Such are represented
as the sympathies of Kalliklés: but those of the Athenians went
with the second of the two rights—and mine go with it also.
And though the language which Plato puts into the mouth of
Kalliklés, in describing this second right, abounds in contemp-
tuous rhetoric, proclaiming offensively the individual weakness
of the multitude —yet this very fact is at once the most solid
and most respectable foundation on which rights and obligations
can be based. The establishment of them is indispensable, and
is felt as indispensable, to procure security for the community :
whereby the strong man whom Kalliklés extols as the favourite
of Nature, may be tamed by discipline and censure, so as to
accommodate his own behaviour to this equitable arrangement.
Plato himself, in his Republic,® traces the generation of a city to
the fact that each man individually taken is not self-sufficing,
but stands in need of many things: it is no less true, that each
man stands also in fear of many things, especially of depredations
from animals, and depredations from powerful individuals of his
own species. In the mythe of Protagoras,‘ we have fears from
hostile animals—in the speech here ascribed to Kalliklés, we
have fears from hostile strong men—assigned as the generating
cause, both of political communion and of established rights and
obligations to protect it.

Kalliklés now explains, that by stronger men, he means better,
wiser, braver men. It is they (he says) who ought, Sokrates
. according to right by nature, to rule over others and ἐπὶ self.
to have larger shares than others. Sokr.—Ought command

1 Plato, Gorgias, p. 483 B, p. 492 A. 3 Plato, Republic, ii. p. 860 B. ore
οἱ πολλοὶ, ἀκοξρυντόμενοι aaa ἑαντῶν τυγχάνει ἐμῶν ἕκαστος οὐκ αὑὐταρκὴς ὧν,

ἀδυναμίαν ἃ πολλῶν ἐνδεής.
Δ Plato, Gorgias, Ὁ. 488 E. on rinte Protag p. 825 Β.

344 GORGIAS. Caap. XXIV.

and mode- they not to rule themselves as well as others: to
requisitefor Control their own pleasures and desires: to be sober
the strong and temperate? Kall—No: they would be foolish if
as for they did. The weak multitude must do so; and there
Kallikies grows up accordingly among them a sentiment which
defends the requires such self-restraint from all. But it is the
privilege of the superior few to be exempt from this
necessity. The right of nature authorises them to have the
largest desires, since their courage and ability furnish means to
satisfy the desires. It would be silly if a king’s son or a despot
were to limit himself to the same measure of enjoyment with
which a poor citizen must be content ; and worse than silly if he
did not enrich his friends in preference to his enemies. He need
not care for that public law and censure which must reign para-
mount over each man among the many. A full swing of enjoy-
ment, if a man has power to procure and maintain it, is virtue as
well as happiness?

Sokr.—I think on the contrary that a sober and moderate life,
Whether regulated according to present means and circum-
the largest stances, is better than a life of immoderate indul-
desiresis gence.* Kall—The man who has no desires will
good fora have no pleasure, and will live like a stone. The
videlbe more the desires, provided they can all be satisfied,
hasthe = the happier a man will be. Sokr.—You mean that a
satisfying man shall be continually hungry, and continually
Whether all satisfying his hunger: continually thirsty, and satis-
Narieties of fying his thirst; and so forth. Kall—By having and
good ? by satisfying those and all other desires, a man will

the pleas enjoy happiness. Sokr.—Do you mean to include all
surable —_—_varieties of desire and satisfaction of desire: such for
good are | example as itching and scratching yourself:‘ and

other bodily appetites which might be named? Kall.
—Such things are not fit for discussion. Sokr.—It is you who
drive me to mention them, by laying down the principle, that
men who enjoy, be the enjoyment of what sort it may, are

1 Plato, Gorgias, p. 491 D. ἀπλήστως καὶ ἀκολάστως ἔχοντος βίον
3 Plato, Gorgias, p. 492 A-C. — τὸν κοσμίως καὶ τοῖς ἀεὶ παροῦσιν ἱκανῶς

οἷός τ᾿ ὦ πεῖσαι μετ σθαι καὶ ἐν τοῦ 4 Plato, Gorg. p.

CuHaPp. XXIV. PLEASURE AND GOOD—DISPARATES. 345

happy ; and by not distingnishing what pleasures are good and
what are evil. Tell me again, do you think that the pleasurable
and the good are identical? Or are there any pleasurable things
which are not good?! Kall.—I think that the pleasurable and

the good are the same.

Upon this question the discussion now turns: whether plea-

sure and good are the same, or whether there are not
some pleasures good, others bad. By a string of ques-
tions much protracted, but subtle rather than conclu-
sive, Sokrates proves that pleasure is not the same as
good—that there are such things as bad pleasures and
good pains. And Kalliklés admits that some plea-
sures are better, others worse.? Profitable pleasures
are good: hurtful pleasures are bad. Thus the
pleasures of eating and drinking are good, if they
impart to us health and strength—bad, if they pro-
duce sickness and weakness. We ought to choose

Kalliklés
maintains
that plea-
surable and

others bad.
A scientific
adviser is
required
to discri-
minate
them.

the good pleasures and pains, and avoid the bad ones.
It is not every man who is competent to distinguish what plea-
sures are good, and what are bad. A scientific and skilful
adviser, judging upon general principles, is required to make
this distinction.?

' This debate between Sokrates and Kalliklés, respecting the
“Quomodo vivendum est,”4 deserves attention on
more than one account. In the first place, the rela-
tion which Sokrates is here made to declare between ς

the two pairs of general terms, Pleasurable—Good : Gorgies,

Painful—Evil: is the direct reverse of that. which and So.

he both declares and demonstrates in the Protagoras. the Prota-
goras.

In that dialogue, the Sophist Protagoras is repre-
sented as holding an opinion very like that which is maintained

be Plato, τῷ. ῬΡ. ἢ γὰρ 2 Plato, Go pp. 496-499.
ᾶ Preto ἡ ἐκεῖνος κων τὰν: ἂν φῇ ἀνέ- 8 Plato, se. » Pp. 499-500. Ap’
δὴν se oem τοὺς χαίροντας, ὅπως ἂν xai- οὖν παντὸς ἀνδ ἐστιν ἐκλέξασθαι ποῖα

ρωσιν, εὐδαίμονας εἶναι, καὶ μὴ Scope:

Tat τῶν ἡδονῶν ὁποῖαι ἀγαθαὶ καὶ κακαί;

ἀλλ᾽ ἔτι καὶ νῦν λέγε ρον φὴς εἶναι Gorgias, p. 492 D. ἵνα τῷ
δὺ καὶ ἀγαθόν, τότε εἶναΐ τι τῶν ὄντι κατάδηλον γένηται, πῶς βιωτέον,

ἠδέων ὃ οὐκ ἔστιν ἀγαθόν; 500 (. : Srriva Χρὴ τρόπον ζῇν.

ἐἰγαθὰ τῶν ἡδέων ἐστὶ καὶ ὁποῖα κακά, ἣ
τχρκοῦ ὃ δεῖ és ἕκαστον ; Τεχνικοῦ.

346 GORGIAS. ᾿ Cuap. XXIV.

by Sokrates in the Gorgias. But Sokrates (in the Protagoras)
refutes him by an elaborate argument; and demonstrates that
pleasure and good (also pain and evil) are names for the same
fundamental ideas under different circumstances: pleasurable
and painful referring only to the sensation of the present
moment—while good and evil include, besides, an estimate of its
future consequences and accompaniments, both pleasurable and
painful, and represent the result of such calculation. In the
Gorgias, Sokrates demonstrates the contrary, by an argument
equally elaborate but not equally convincing. He impugns a
doctrine advocated by Kalliklés, and in impugning it, proclaims
a marked antithesis and even repugnance between the pleasur-
able and the good, the painful and the evil: rejecting the funda-
mental identity of the two, which he advocates in the Protagoras,
as if tt were a disgraceful heresy.

The subject evidently presented itself to Plato in two different
View of cri- ways at different times. Which of the two is earliest,
tics about = we have no means of deciding. The commentators,
diction. who favour generally the view taken in the Gorgias,
treat the Protagoras as a juvenile and erroneous production :
sometimes, with still less reason, they represent Sokrates as
arguing in that dialogue, from the principles of his opponents, not
from his own. For my part, without knowing whether the Prota-
goras or the Gorgias is the earliest, I think the Protagoras an
equally finished composition, and I consider that the views which
Sokrates is made to propound in it, respecting pleasure and good,
are decidedly nearer to the truth.

That in the list of pleasures there are some which it is proper
Comparison * avoid,—and in the list of pains, some which it is
andappre- proper to accept or invite—is a doctrine maintained
the reason- by Sokrates alike in both the dialogues. Why?
ing οἱ Because some pleasures are good, others bad: some
in both pains bad, others good—says Sokrates in the Gorgias.
dialogues. ‘The game too is said by Sokrates in the Protagoras ;
but then, he there explains what he means by the appellation.
All pleasure (he there says), so far as it goes, is good—all pain is
bad. But there are some pleasures which cannot be enjoyed
without debarring us from greater pleasures or entailing upon us
greater pains: on that ground therefore, such pleasures are bad.

Cuar. XXIV. PROTAGORAS AND GORGIAS COMPARED. 347

So again, there are some pains, the suffering of which is a condi-
tion indispensable to our escaping greater pains, or to our
enjoying greater pleasures : such pains therefore are good. Thus
this apparent exception does not really contradict, but confirms,
the general doctrine—That there is no good but the pleasurable,
and the elimination of pain—and no evil except the painful, or
the privation of pleasure. Good and evil have no reference
except to pleasures and pains; but the terms imply, in each
particular case, an estimate and comparison of future pleasurable
and painful consequences, and express the result of such com-
parison. ‘You call enjoyment itself evil” (says Sokrates in the
Protagoras),' “when it deprives us of greater pleasures or entails
upon us greater pains. If you have any other ground, or look to
any other end, in calling it evil, you may tell us what that end
is; but you will not be able to tell us. So too, you say that pain
i3 a good, when it relieves us from greater pains, or when it is
necessary as the antecedent cause of greater pleasures. If you
have any other end in view, when you call pain good, you may
tell us what that end is; but you will not be able to tell us.”?
In the Gorgias, too, Sokrates declares that some pleasures are

good, others bad—some pains bad, others good. But Distinct
here he stops. He does not fulfil the reasonable ft#tement

demand urged by Sokrates in the Protagoras—“If Frotagoras

you make such a distinction, explain the ground on good and

which you make it, and the end to which you look”. τις what

The distinction in the Gorgias stands without any principles

assigned ground or end to rest upon. And this want adviser is to

1 Plato, Pratagoras, Ῥ. 354 D. ἐπεί, ἐπαινεῖ; τί γὰρ δὴ δικαίῳ χωριζόμενον
εἰ κατ᾿ ἄλλο τι αὐτὸ τὸ χαίρειν κακὸν ἡδονῆς ἀγαθὸν ἂν γένοιτο;
καλεῖτε καὶ εἰς ἄλλο τι τέλος ἀποβλέ- Plato goes on to argue as follows:
ψαντες, ἔχοιτε ἂν καὶ ἡμῖν εἰπεῖν" GAA’ Even though it were not true, as I
οὐχ dere. . . . ἐπεὶ εἰ πρὸς ἄλλο τε affirm it to be, that the life of justice
τόλος ἀποβλέπετε, ὅταν καλῆτε αὐτὸ is a life of pleasure, and the life of
τὸ λυπεῖσθαι ἀγαθόν, ἣ πρὸς ὃ ἐγὼ λέγω, injustice a life of pain—still the law
ἔχετε ἡμῖν εἰπεῖν " ἀλλ᾽ οὐχ ἕξετε. giver must proclaim this proposition as
3In a remarkable e of the a useful falsehood, and compel every
De Legibus, Plato denies all essential one to chime in with it. Otherwise
distinction between Good and Pleasure, the ἦρθα will have no motive to just
and all reality of Good apart from Plea- conduct. For no one will willingly con-
sure . ii, pp. 662-663). εἰ δ᾽ αὖ τὸν sent to obey any recommendation from
Sex τον εὐδαιμονέστατον ἀποφαινοιτο which he does not expect more pleasure
Biow εἶναι, ζητοῖ πον πᾶς ἂν ὁ ἀκούων, than pain ; οὐδεὶς γὰρ ἂν ἑκὼν ἔθελοι πεί-
τί ποτ᾽ ἐν αὑτῷ τὸ τῆς ἡδονῆς KpetT- θεσθαι πράττειν τοῦτο 5, TY μὴ τὸ χαίρειν
τὸν ἀγαθόν τε καὶ καλὸν ὃ νόμος ἐνὸν τοῦ λυπεῖσθαι πλέον ἕπεται (cos 5).

“

348 GORGIAS. Onap. XXIV.

eed in is the more sensibly felt, when we read in the same
ing them. dialogue, that—“It is not every man who can dis-
Νο such dis- tinguish the good pleasures from the bad : a scientific
tent in the man, proceeding on principle, is needed for the pur-
pose”. But upon what criterion is the scientific
man to proceed? Of what properties is he to take account, in
pronouncing one pleasure to be bad, another good—or one pain
to be bad and another good—the estimate of consequences,
measured in future pleasures and pains, being by the supposition
excluded? No information is given. The problem set to the
scientific man is one of which all the quantities are unknown.
Now Sokrates in the Protagoras? also lays it down, that a
scientific or rational calculation must be had, and a mind compe-
tent to such calculation must be postulated, to decide which
pleasures are bad or fit to be rejected—which pains are good, or .
proper to be endured. But then he clearly specifies the elements
which alone are to be taken into the calculation—viz., the future
pleasures and pains accompanying or dependent upon each with
the estimate of their comparative magnitude and durability.
The theory of this calculation is clear and intelligible: though
in many particular cases, the data necessary for making it, and
the means of comparing them, may be very imperfectly acces-
sible.

According to various ethical theories, which have chiefly
obtained currency in modern times, the distinction—
ethical between pleasures good or fit to be enjoyed, and plea-
Intuition, Sures bad or unfit to be enjoyed—is determined for us

Moral by a moral sense or intuition: by a simple, peculiar,

sense~not . ς . .

ree οι ised sentiment of right and wrong, or a conscience, which
y to

in either of SPrings up within us ready-made, and decides on such
the dia- matters without appeal ; so that a man has only to
ONS. look into his own heart for a solution. We need not
take account of this hypothesis, in reviewing Plato’s philosophy :
for he evidently does not proceed upon it. He expressly affirms,
in the Gorgias as well as in the Protagoras, that the question is
one requiring science or knowledge to determine it, and upon

1 Plato, Gorgias, p. 500 A. “Ap τεχνικοῦ bet εἰς ἕκαστον; Texrixov.
οὖν παντὸς ἀνρός ἐστιν ἐκλέξασθαι τοῖα Pla. to, Protagoras, pp. X357 B, 356

Gyala τῶν ἡδέων ἐστὶ καὶ ὁποῖα κακά; ἣ

CuaP. XXIV. SCIENTIFIC CHOICE REQUIRED. 349

which none but the man of: science or expert (τεχνικὸς) 18 8 com-

petent judge.
_ Moreover, there is another point common to both the two
dialogues, deserving of notice. I have already re-
marked when reviewing the doctrine of Sokrates in ¢
the Protagoras, that it appears to me seriously defec-
tive, inasmuch as it takes into account the pleasures
and pains of the agent only, and omits the pleasures
and pains of other persons affected by his conduct.
But this is not less true respecting the doctrine of
Sokrates in the Gorgias: for whatever criterion he
may there have in his mind to determine which
among our pleasures are bad, it is certainly not this—
that the agent in procuring them is obliged to hurt
others. For the example which Sokrates cites as
specially illustrating the class of bad pleasures—viz., the pleasure
of scratching an itching part of the body '—is one in which no’
others besides the agent are concerned. As in the Protagoras, so
in the Gorgias—Plato in laying down his rule of life, admits into
the theory only what concerns the agent himself, and makes no
direct reference to the happiness of others as affected by the
agent's behaviour.

There are however various points of analogy between the

Protagoras and the Gorgias, which will enable us,
after tracing them out, to measure the amount of
substantial difference between them ; I speak of the
reasoning of Sokrates in each. Thus, in the Prota-
goras,? Sokrates ranks health, strength, preservation
of the community, wealth, command, &c., under the
general head of Good things, but expressly on the

Points

wherein the

doctrine

of the two
ogues

is in sub-

stance the

same, but
differing in
classifica-

tion.

ground that they are the producing causes and con-
ditions of pleasures and of exemption from pains: he also ranks
sickness and poverty under the head of Evil things, as productive
causes of pain and suffering. In the Gorgias also, he numbers
wisdom, health, strength, perfection of body, riches, &., among
Good things or profitable things*—(which two words he treats as

1The Sokrates of the

th
bad pleasures, because the discomfort
and distress of body out of which

it arises more than countervail the

pleasu
3 Plato, Protagor. 858 D, 354 A.
3 Plato, Gorgias, Pee 467 467-468-499.

350 GORGIAS. Cusp. XXIV.

equivalent)—and their contraries as Evil things. Now he does
not expressly say here (as in the Protagoras) that these things are
good, because they are productive causes of pleasure or exemption
from pain: but such assumption must evidently be supplied in
order to make the reasoning valid. For upon what pretence can
any one pronounce strength, health, riches, to be good—and
helplessness, sickness, poverty, to be evil—if no reference be
admitted to pleasures and pains? Sokrates in the Gorgias!
declares that the pleasures of eating and drinking are good, in 80
far as they impart health and strength to the body—evil, in so
far as they produce a contrary effect. Sokrates in the Protagoras
reasons in the same way—but with this difference—that he
would count the pleasure of the repast itself as one item of good :
enhancing the amount of good where the future consequences are
beneficial, diminishing the amount of evil where the fature
consequences are unfavourable: while Sokrates in the Gorgias
excludes immediate pleasure from the list of good things, and
immediate pain from the list of evil

This last exclusion renders the theory in the Gorgias untenable
and inconsistent. If present’ pleasure be not admitted as an
item of good so far as it goes—then neither can the future and
consequent aggregates of pleasure, nor the causes of them, be
admitted as good. So likewise, if present pain be no evil, fature
pain cannot be allowed to rank as an evil.?

Each of the two dialogues, which I am now comparing, is in
Kallikiés, truth an independent composition: in each, Sokrates
whom has a distinct argument to combat ; and in the latest
refutesin of the two (whichever that was), no heed is taken of

1 Plato, Gorgias, p. 499 D. we do not desire—nay, which | we
3 Compare a passage in the Republic haps hate or shun, per ich
(1. p. 357) δ) whore Sokrates gives (or wenevertheless d Noireand invite inone
accepts, as given by Glaukon) a de- nection with and for the sake of ulterior .
scription of Good much more coinci- consequences: such as as gymnastic
ent with the Protagoras than ¥ with the ing, medical treatment when wear en wearesick,
Gorgiaa The common pro of 8 alt ur in our trade rade or profession.
G is to be desired or seat + and Here Plato immediately
there are three varieties of it—1. That pleasurable per se as one variety of
which we desire for itself, and forits good, always assuming that it is not
own sake, apart from all ulterior con- countervailed by consequences or ac-
sequences, such as innocuous leasures companiments of a al character.
or enjoyments. That which we This is the doctrine "οἵ the Protagoras,
desire both for iteelf and for its ulterior as distinguished from the Go
consequences, such as good health, good where Sokrates sets pleasure ine
vision, good sense, &c. 8. That which opposition to good

Cuap. XXIV. THE DIALOGUES INDEPENDENT. 351

the argumentation in the earlier. In the Protagoras, the Gorgias,
he exalts the dignity and paramount force of know- different
ledge or prudence: if ἃ man knows how to calculate #SUpae
pleasures and pains, he will be sure to choose the which So.
result which involves the greater pleasure or the less bats in the
pain, on the whole: to say that he is overpowered by
immediate pleasure or pain into making a bad choice, is a wrong
description—the real fact being, that he is deficient in the proper
knowledge how to choose. In the Gorgias, the doctrine assigned
to Kalliklés and impugned by Sokrates is something very
different. That justice, temperance, self-restraint, are indeed
indispensable to the happiness of ordinary men ; but if. there be
any one individual, so immensely superior in force as to trample
down and make slaves of the rest, this one man would be a fool
if he restrained himself: having the means of gratifying all his
appetites, the more appetites he has, the more enjoyments will he
have and the greater happiness. Observe—that Kalliklés
applies this doctrine only to the one omnipotent despot: to all
other members of society, he maintains that self-restraint is
essential. This is the doctrine which Sokrates in the Gorgias
undertakes to refute, by denying community of nature between
the pleasurable and the good—between the painful and the
evil.

To me his refutation appears altogether unsuccessful, and the
position upon which he rests it incorrect. The only
parts of the refutation really forcible, are those in tion of Kal-
which he unconsciously relinquishes this position, and Hxésby
slides into the doctrine of the Protagoras. Upon this the Gorgias,
latter doctrine, a refutation might be grounded: you cessful—it
may show that even an omnipotent despot (regard for siccesstul
the comfort of others being excluded by the hypo- as he adopts
thesis) will gain by limiting the gratification of his tionatly the
appetites to-day so as not to spoil his appetites of to- {ortrine of
morrow. Even in his case, prudential restraint is the Prota-
required, though his motives for it would be much
less than in the case of ordinary social men. But Good, as laid
down by Plato in the Gorgias, entirely disconnected from plea-

1 Plato, Gorgias, p. 492 B.

352 GORGIAS. Crarp. XXIV.

sure—and Evil, entirely disconnected from pain—have no
application to this supposed despot. He has no desire for such
Platonic Good—no aversion for such Platonic Evil His happi-
ness is not diminished by missing the former or incurring the
latter. In fact, one of the cardinal principles of Plato’s ethical
philosophy, which he frequently asserts both in this dialogue
and elsewhere,'—That every man desires Good, and acts for the
sake of obtaining Good, and avoiding Evil—becomes untrue, if
you conceive Good and Evil according to the Gorgias, as having
no reference to pleasure or the avoidance of pain: untrue, not
merely in regard to a despot under these exceptional conditions,
bat in regard te the large majority of social men. They desire
to obtain Good and avoid Evil, in the sense of the Protagoras: but
not in the sense of the Gorgias? Sokrates himself proclaims in
this dialogue : “I and philosophy stand opposed to Kalliklés and
the Athenian public. What I desire is, to reason consistently -
with myself.” That is, to speak the language of Sokrates in the
Protagoras—“'To me, Sokrates, the consciousness of inconsistency
with myself and of an unworthy character, the loss of my own
self-esteem and the pungency of my own self-reproach, are the
greatest of all pains: greater than those which you, Kalliklés,
and the Athenians generally, seek to avoid at all price and urge
me also to avoid at all price—poverty, political nullity, exposure

minerat ” (says Heindorf) “ vir doctus
ceteros in Platone locos, ubi eodem
modo ex duplici 118 potestate -
mentatio ducitur, cujusmodi plura atta.
limus harmidem, 42,

Heindorf observes, on the

1 Plato, Gorgias, pp. 467 C, 499 E.
Gorgias, respecting this matter, rests
respecting this matter, res
upon an equivocal phrase. The Greek
εὖ πράττειν two meanings ;
t means recté agere, to act rightly;

and it also means felicem esse, to
bappy- There is a corresponding
double sense in κακῶς πράττειν. Hein-
dorf has well noticed the fallacious
reasoning founded by Plato on this
double sense. We read in the Gor-
gias, p. 507 C: ἀνάγκη τὸν σώφρονα,
ἕκαιον ὄντα καὶ ἀνδρεῖον καὶ ὅσιον,
ἀγαθὸν ἄνδρα εἶναι τελέως, τὸν δὲ ἀγα-
θὸν εὖ τε καὶ καλῶς πράττειν ἃ ἂν
πράττῃ, τὸν δ᾽ εὖ πράττοντα μακάριόν
τε καὶ εὐδαίμονα εἶναι, τὸν δὲ πονηρὸν
καὶ κακῶς πράττοντα ἄθλιον. Upon
which Heindorf remarks, citing a note
of Routh, who says, “ Vix enim potest
credi, Platonem duplici sensu ver-
boram εὖ πράττειν ad argumentum
bandum abuti voluisse, que fal-

ia esset amphibolie”. ‘‘Non me-

lL. c.: “ Argumenti hujus vim positam

apparet in duplici dictionis εὖ πράττειν
significatu : quum vulgo ait “felicem
esse, non recté facere. Hoc ue
ejusdem generis sepius sic ansam
preebuerunt sophismatis . quam
justi syllogi ” Heindorf then re-
fers to analogouse in

Repub. i. p. 364 fF: Aikib. L

, Ὁ. 134 A. A similar fallacy is found
in Aristotle, Politic. vii.ii p. 1828, a. 17,
b ἄριστα γὰρ πράττειν προσήκεε τοὺς
ἄριστα πολετενομένο . ἐδύνατον δὲ κα-
λῶς πράττειν τοῖς μὴ τὰ K Ἵ ᾿
This fallacy is recognised and properly
commented on as 8, “logisches Wort-
spun, Die Diatons det drinntaee
volume, Die Dialoge Ari .
80-81 (Berlin, 1863). PP

CuaP. XXIV. DOCTRINE OF THE GORGIAS UNTENABLE. 353

to false accusation, &c.”! ‘The noble scheme of life, here re-
commended by Sokrates, may be correctly described according
to the theory of the Protagoras: without any resort to the
paradox of the Gorgias, that Good has no kindred or reference to
Pleasure, nor Evil to Pain.

Lastly—I will compare the Protagoras and the Gorgias
(meaning always, the reasoning of Sokrates in each permanent
of them) under one more point of view. How does Clements—
each of them describe and distinguish the permanent sient ele-_.
elements, and the transient elements, involved in homan
human agency? What function does each of them pecney”
assign to the permanent element? The distinction them is ap-
of these two is important in its ethical bearing. The Pthe two
whole life both of the individual and of society con- dialogues.
sists of successive moments of action or feeling. But each in-
dividual (and the society as an aggregate of individuals) has
within him embodied and realised an element more or less per-
- manent—an established character, habits, dispositions, intellectual
acquirements, &c.—a sort of capital accumulated from the past.
This permanent element is of extreme importance. It stands to
the transient element in the same relation as the fixed capital of
a trader or manufacturer to his annual produce. The whole use
and value of the fixed capital, of which the skill and energy of
the trader himself make an important part, consists in the
amount of produce which it will yield: but at the same time the
trader must keep it up in its condition of fixed capital, in order
to obtain such amount: he must set apart, and abstain from de-
- voting to immediate enjoyment, as much of the annual produce
as will suffice to maintain the fixed capital unimpaired—and ~
more, if he desires to improve his condition. The capital cannot
be commuted into interest ; yet nevertheless its whole value de-
pends upon, and is measured by, the interest which it yields.
Doubtless the mere idea of possessing the capital is pleasurable to
the possessor, because he knows that it can and will be profitably
employed, so long as he chooses.

Now in the Protagoras, the permanent element is very
pointedly distinguished from the transient, and is 4 the Pro.
called Knowledge—the Science or Art of Calculation, *agoras.

1 Plato, Gorgias, pp. 481 D, 482 B.
‘ 2—23

4 OTE. Que XXIV.

Sta facto ta, ἢ cieasly τσασχισνξ τα ake πταεσισπᾶξος καὶ.
mate soc meamtremens of tie traament elemencs- whack a
tates: Ὁ», meas, £ pisamrres and yerae oresent aed fatore—weer
stl Vinten - τ 25 τοῦ τασρξσία- ἔπε and strom To thee
Aenatcn, that. LAA 75 oxescete cali, the ealeciacion is to apply.
“The mbety A 1:15" ἔπαγε SAcrates *) “ resides im car keeping up
this “τ. τ art A alealatin.” No present enjovment mut
le νησὶ, which would impair it; no present paim mast be
shunned, which is emential to uphold it Yet the whole of its
value rexiden in its application to the comparison of the pleasures
ais jmites,

In the Gorgias the same two elements are differently described,
In the and lems clearly explained. The permanent is termed,
(Magen, = Order, arrangement, discipline, a lawful, just, and
temperate, cast of mind (opposed to the doctrine ascribed to Kal-
likles, which negatived this element altogether, in the mind of the
Aeapot), parallel to health and strength of body : the unordered
mind is again the parallel of the corrupt, distempered, helpless,
body ; life is not worth having ‘until this is cured.? This corre-
aponda to the knowledge or Calculating Science in the Protagoras;
hut we cannot understand what its function is, in the Gorgias,
heseastame: the calculable clements are incompletely enumerated.

In the Protagoras, these calculable elements are two-fold—im-
meuliates pleasures and pains—and future or distant pleasures and
piulna Botwoon these two there is intercommunity of nature, 80
that thoy are quite commensurable ; and the function of the cal-
culating reason is, to make a right estimate of the one against the
οὐ ον." But in the Gorgias, no mention is made of future or
dintant pleasures and pains; the calculable element is represented
only by immodiate pleasure or pain—and from thence we pass at
ones to the permanent calculator—the mind, sound or corrupt.
You muat abatain from a particular enjoyment, because it will

Uttato, Mrotag Ὁ. ΔΔῚ Α. ἐπειδὴ δὲ community of nature, if along with the
Utvrgs ce ant ναψι ἐν dpey τῇ se pains and pleasures of the agent him-
ἐφάνη Gate αὶ ewrqa τὸν βιὸν οὖσα, self (which alone are regarded im the
tee ae ἀλεόννι καὶ ἐλάττονος καὶ μει- tion of Sokrates im the Prota-
yeres aai ὌΝΩΝ an ποῤῥωτέρω καὶ Fores) you 5
ate.

Ν Σ con-
1, hah argian pr &N BC, 608 cerned, and the established with

Pe Wade avemer— ψυχὴ κοῦμια Sy te ne λιν sete ar wath
® ἡ a we a ww both of the
τ ἤνην woahl be also the like inter agent and of others.

CaP. XXIV. DEFECTIVE PSYCHOLOGY OF THE GORGIAS. 355

taint the soundness of your mind : this is a pertinent reason (and
would be admitted as such by Sokrates in the Protagoras, who
instead of sound mind would say, calculating intelligence), but it
is neither the ultimate reason (since this soundness of mind is
itself valuable with a view to future calculations), nor the only
reason: for you must also abstain, if it will bring upon yourself
{or upon others) preponderating pains in the particular case—if
the future pains would preponderate over the present pleasure.
Of this last calculation no notice is taken in the Gorgias : which
exhibits only the antithesis (not merely marked but even over-
done!) between the immediate pleasure or pain and the calcu-
lating efficacy of mind, but leaves out the true function which
gives value to the sound mind as distinguished from the unsound
and corrupt. That function consists in its application to particu-
lar cases: in right dealing with actual life, as regards the’ agent
himself and others: in évepyeia, as distinguished from ἕξες, to use
Aristotelian language. I am far from supposing that this part
of the case was absent from Plato’s mind. But the theory laid
out in the Gorgias (as compared with that in the,Protagoras)
leaves no room for it ; giving exclusive prominence to the other
elements, and acknowledging only the present pleasure or pain,
to be set against the permanent condition of mind, bad or good
as it may be.

Indeed there is nothing more remarkable in the Gorgias, than
the manner in which Sokrates not only condemns the Characterot
unmeasured, exorbitant, maleficent desires, but also the Go τατος
depreciates and degrades all the actualities of life—all ting
the recreative and elegant arts, including music and δ ἔθ δος
poetry, tragic as well as dithyrambic—all provision life.
for the most essential wants, all protection against particular

of the
ectual and emotional. But great
as they ned this value to be, they
resolved it all into the diminution or
mi of pains, and, in a certain
though inferior degree,
tion of pleasures. Th

rgias.
by Nig i δ στα, Ῥ. 1146, b. 81, p. 1147,

See the letter of Epikurus to Ὁ Me-
neekeus, Diog. L. x. 128-182;
tius, v. 18-45, vi. 12-25 ; Horat. ine
i. 2, 48-60.

2 Aristot. Ethic. Nikom. i. 7. The
remark of Aristotle in the same treatise,
᾿ δ--δοκεῖ ἐνδέχεσθαι καὶ καθεύδειν

οντα τὴν ἀρετήν, ἢ ἀπρακτεῖν διὰ
Blow t be applied to the theory
pare also Ethic.

336

GORGIAS.

CuaPp. XXIV.

sufferings and dangers, even all service rendered to another per-
son in the way of relief or of rescue —all the effective mainten-
ance of public organised force, such as ships, docks, walls, arms,
ὥς. -Immediate satisfaction or relief, and those who confer it,

are treated with contempt, and

presented as in hostility to the

perfection of the mental structure. And it is in this point of
view that various Platonic commentators extol in an especial
manner the Gorgias : as recognising an Idea of Good superhuman
and supernatural, radically disparate from pleasures and pains of
any human being, and incommensurable with them: an Uni-
versal Idea, which, though it is supposed to cast a distant light

1 Plato, Gorgias, pp. 501-502-511-
§12-517-519. dvev γὰρ δικαιοσύνης καὶ
σωφροσύνης λιμένων καὶ νεωρίων καὶ
τειχῶν καὶ φόρων καὶ τοιούτων φλναριῶν
ἐμπεπλήκασι τὴν πόλιν.

This is applied to the provision of
food, drink, clothing, bedding, for the
hunger, thirst, &c., of the community
φ 817 b), to the saving of life (p. 511 D).

boatman between gina and
Peirseus (says Plato) brings over his
passengers in safety, together with
families and property, preserving
them from all the dang the sea.
The engineer, who constructs good
fortifications, preserves from er
and destruction all the citizens with
their families and their property
(p. 612 B). But neither of these per-
sons takes credit. for this service:
cause both of them know that it is
doubtful whether they have done an
real service to the persons preserved,
since they have not rendered them any
better; and that it is even doubtful
whether they may not have done them
an actual mischief. Perhaps these
rsons may be wicked and corrupt ;
n that case it is a misfortune to them

ers of

that their lives should be prolonged; stee

it would be better for them to die.
It is under this conviction (says
Plato) that the boatman and the
engineer, though they do preserve
our ives, take to themselves no credit
or

We shall hardly find any greater
‘rhetorical exaggeration than this,
among all the compositions of the
rhetors against whom Plato declares
war in the Gorgias. Moreover, it is a
specimen of the way in which Plato
colours'and misinterprets the facts of

social life, in order to serve the pur-
Ero says traly that when thse peseaes
says w
boat from to Peirwus has
reached its destination, the steersman
receives his fare and walks about on
e shore, without taking an
credit to himself, as if fe bad’ per.
τατος Αι τ servi But h
an im ce. iow does.
Plato explain this? By su in
the steersman’s mind feelings which
never enter. into the mind of ἃ real
agent; feelings w are t into
words only when moralist or a satirist
is anxious to enforce a sentiment. The
service which the steersman performs
is not only adequately remunera
but is, on most days, ‘a regular
easy one, such as every man who has
gone through a decent apprenticeship
can perform. But suppose an excep-

tio: day—su @& sudden and
terrible storm ἐν supervene on the

passage — sup the boat fall a
passengers, with every prospect
on board bein drowned suppose she
is only saved by the extrao:
vigilance, and efforts of the
raman. In that case he on
reaching the land, walk about of
elate self-congratulation and pride :.
the encou i

passengers will this
sentiment by expressions of the ἃ
gratitude ; while friends as well as
per eran will praise his successful
exploi ow many © passengers.
there are for whom the preservation of
blossing’-i'a question which neitha:
—is a q on w neith
thoy themnelves nor the steersman,
nor the public, will ever dream of

‘ Cyap. XXIV. ELEMENTS OF HAPPINESS DEPRECIATED. 357

upon its particulars, is separated from them by an incalculable
space, and is discernible only by the Platonic telescope.

We have now established (continues Sokrates) that pleasure is
essentially different from good, and pain from evil:
also, that to obtain good and avoid evil, a scientific
choice is required—while to obtain pleasure and avoid
pain, is nothing more than blind imitation or irra-
tional knack. There are some arts and pursuits which -
aim only at procuring immediate pleasure—others
which aim at attaining good or the best ;' some arts,
for a single person,—others for a multitude. Arts and. pursuits
which aim only at immediate pleasure, either of one or of ἃ multi-
tude, belong to the general head of Flattery. Among them are all
the musical, choric, and dithyrambic representations at the festi-
-vals—tragedy as well as comedy—also political and judicial
rhetoric. None of these arts aim at any thing except to gratify
the public to whom they are addressed : none of them aim at the
permanent good : none seek to better the character of the public.
They adapt themselves to the prevalent desires: but whether
those desires are such as, if realised, will make the public worse
or better, they never enquire. ? :

Sokr.—Do you know any public speakers who aim at anything
more than gratifying the public, or who care to make TheRhetors
the public better? Kall.—There are some who do, fittering
and others who do not. Sokr.—Which are ‘those who the public—
do? and which of them has ever made the public

ment
of Sokrates
ed

resumed—
multifarious
arts of flat-

,aiming
at amedi.
ate plea-
sure.

even the

best past

1The Sokrates of the Protagoras
would have admitted a twofold dis-
tinction of aims, but would have stated
the distinction otherwise. Two things
dhe would say) may be looked at in
regard to any course of conduct: first,
the immediate pleasure or pain which
it yields ; secondly, this item, not alone,
but combined with all the other plea-
sures and pains which can be foreseen
as its conditions, consequences, or
concomitants. To obey the desire of
immediate pleasure, or the fear of
immediate pain, requires no science ;

to foresee, estimate, and compare
the consequences, requires a scientific
calculation often very difficult and
complicated—a τέχνη OF ἐπιστήμη μετ-

ρητική.

Thus we are told not only in what
cases the calculation is required, but
what are the elements to be taken into
the calculation. In the Gorgias, we
are not told on what elements the cal-
culation of good and evil is to be based:
we are told that there must be science,
but we learn nothing more.

2 Plato, Gorgias, pp. 502-503.

358 GORGIAS. Cuap. XXIV.

. Bhetors better? Kall.—At any rate, former statesmen did
have done | so; such as Miltiades, Themistokles, Kimon, Perikles
atationot Sokr.—None of them. If they had, you would have
Rhetors by seen them devoting themselves systematically and
obviously to their one end. As a builder labours to
construct a ship or a house, by putting together its various parts
with order and symmetry—so these statesmen would have
laboured to implant order and symmetry in the minds and bodies
of ‘the citizens: that is, justice and temperance in their minds,
health and strength in their bodies.* Unless the statesman can
do this, it is fruitless to supply the wants, to fulfil the desires
and requirements, to uphold or enlarge the power, of the citizens.
This is like supplying ample nourishment to a distempered body :
the more such a body takes in, the worse it becomes. The
citizens must be treated with refusal of their wishes and with
punishment, until their vices are healed, and they become good. Ὁ
We ought to do (contintes Sokrates) what is pleasing for the
Necterity δ8Κ6 of what is good : not vice vers. But every thing
fortempe- becomes good by possessing its appropriate virtue or
lstion order, Tegulation. The regulation appropriate to the mind
This is the | is, to be temperate. The temperate man will do what
virtueand is just—his duty towards men: and what is holy—his
happiness’ duty towards the Gods. He will be just and holy.
He will therefore also be courageous: for he will seek only such
pleasures as duty permits, and he will endure all such pains as
duty requires. Being thus temperate, just, brave, holy, he will
be a perfectly good man, doing well and honourably throughout.
The man who does well, will be happy: the man who does ill
and is wicked, will be miserable.‘ It ought to be our principal
aim, both for ourselves individually and for the city, to attain
temperance and to keep clear of intemperance: not to let our
desires run immoderately (as you, Kallikles, advise), and then
seek repletion for them: which is an endless mischief, the life of
a pirate. He who pursues this plan can neither be the friend of
any other man, nor of the Gods: for he is incapable of com-
munion, and therefore of friendship. ὅ

1 Plato, Gorgias, AY 508 C. Routh and Heindorf's notes).
3 Plato, Gorgias, p. 504 D. Plato, .
3 Plato, Gorgias, p. 505 B. dp ἀδύνατος

4Plato, Gorgias, p. 507 D (with φιλία οὐκ ἂν εἴη.

Cuap. XXIV. CONDITIONS OF POLITICAL SUCCESS. 359

Now, Kallikles (pursues Sokrates), you have reproached me
with standing aloof from public life in order to pursue yrpossible
philosophy. You tell me that by not cultivating to succeed

n public
public speaking and public action, I am at the mercy life, unless
of any one who chooses to accuse me unjustly and to thoroughly
bring upon me severe penalties. But I tell you, that akin to and

in harmony
it is a greater evil to do wrong than to suffer wrong; with the
and that my first business is, to provide for myself "ling force.
such power and such skill as shall guard me against doing wrong.'
Next, as to suffering wrong, there is only one way of taking pre-
cautions against it. You must yourself rule in the city: or you
must be a friend of the ruling power. Like is the friend of like :?
a cruel despot on the throne will hate and destroy any one who
is better than himself, and will despise any one worse than him-
self. The only person who will have influence is, one of the
same dispositions as the despot : not only submitting to him with
good will, but praising and blaming the same things as he does—
accustomed from youth upwards to share in his preferences and
aversions, and assimilated to him as much as possible.* Now if
᾿ the despot be a wrong-doer, he who likens himself to the despot
will become a wrong-doer also. And thus, in taking precautions
against suffering wrong, he will incur the still greater mischief
and corruption of doing wrong, and will be worse off instead of
better.
_ Kall—But if he does not liken himself to the despot, the
despot may put him to death, if he chooses? Sokr.— panger of
Perhaps he may : but it will be death inflicted by a one who dia-
bad man upon a good man.* To prolong life is not the public,
the foremost consideration, but te decide by rational either for
thought what is the best way of passing that length for worse.

of life which the Fates allot. Is it my best plan to do as you

1 Plato, Gorgias, p. 509 C. Com- δὴ ἐκεῖνος μόνος ἄξιος λόγον φίλος τῷ
pare Leges, viil. eae ‘A, where τὸ μὴ τοιούτῳ, ὃς ἄν, ὁμοήθης ὦν, ταὐτὰ ψέγων
ἀδικεῖν 18 described as easy of attain- καὶ ἐπαινῶν, ͵ ἐθέλῃ ἄρχεσθαι καὶ ὑπο-
ment ; τὸ μὴ ἀδικεῖσθαι, as being way- κεῖσθαι “τῷ ἄρχοντι. Οὗτος μέγα ἐν
χάλεπον : and both equally necessary ταύτῃ τῇ πόλει ὑνήσεται, τοῦτον οὐδεὶς
πρὸς τὸ εὐδαιμόνως ζῇν. χαίρων ἀδικήσει. . . - τὴ ὁδός ἐ ἐστιν,

3 Plat. Gorg. 510 ¥ Piros—o ὅμοιος εὐθὺς ἐκ νέον ἐθίζειν αὐτὸν" τοῖς αὑτοῖς
τῷ ὁμοίῳ. 6 have already seen this χαίρειν καὶ ἄχθεσθαι τῷ δε » καὶ
principle discussed and rejected in the παρασκευάζειν 6 ὅπως ὅ τι μάλιστα ὅμοιος

ysis, p. 214. See above, ch. xx., p. ἔσται ἐκεί
4 Plato, Gorgias, p. 511 B.
3 Plato, Gorgias, p. 510C. λείπεται δ Plato, Gorgias, pp. ἮΙ Β, 512 E.

350 GORGIAS. σεν. XXIV.

equivalent)—and their contraries as Evil things. Now he does
not expressly say here (as in the Protagoras) that these things are
good, because they are productive causes of pleasure or exemption
from pain: but such assumption must evidently be supplied in
order to make the reasoning valid. For upon what pretence can
any one pronounce strength, health, riches, to be good—and
helplessness, sickness, poverty, to be evil—if no reference be
admitted to pleasures and pains? Sokrates in the Gorgias!
declares that the pleasures of eating and drinking are good, in»
far as they impart health and strength to the body—evil, in οὐ
far as they produce a contrary effect. Sokrates in the
reasons in the same way—but with this difference—that he
would count the pleasure of the repast itself as one item of good :
enhancing the amount of good where the future consequences are
beneficial, diminishing the amount of evil where the future
consequences are unfavourable: while Sokrates in the Gorgias
excludes immediate pleasure from the list of good things, and
immediate pain from the list of evil things.

This last exclusion renders the theory in the Gorgias untenable
and inconsistent. If present pleasure be not admitted as an
item of good so far as it goes—then neither can the future and
consequent aggregates of pleasure, nor the causes of them, be
admitted as good. So likewise, if present pain be no evil, future
pain cannot be allowed to rank as an evil.?

Each of the two dialogues, which I am now ‘comparing, is in
Kallikiés, truth an independent composition: in each, Sokrates
whom has a distinct argument to combat ; and in the latest

Sokrates
refatesin οὗ the two (whichever that was), no heed is taken of

1 Plato, Gorgias, p. 499 D. we do not desire—nay, which we
2 Com pare a passage in the Republic haps hate o per se but «
di. p. 357) where Sokrates gives (or wenovertheleas ἀρ, ΖΕ aeration
ts, as given by Glaukon) a 9. nection with and for the sake of

Ρ ammonia
which we desire for itealf, and for its good, always assuming that it is at
own sake, apart from all ulterior con- countervailed by consequences or 80
sequences, such as innocuous pleasures compeniments of a painfal characte.

enjoyments. 2. That which we This is the doctrine of the Protagorss,
desire both for itself and for its ulterior distinguished from the
consequences, such as good health, good where Sokrates sets pleasure in
vision, good sense, &c. 8. That which opposition to good

Cuap. XXIV. THE DIALOGUES INDEPENDENT. 351

the argumentation in the earlier. In the Protagoras, the Gorgias,
he exalts the dignity and paramount force of know- different
ledge or prudence: if a man knows how to calculate #gsument
pleasures and pains, he will be sure to choose the which So-
result which involves the greater pleasure or the less bats in the
pain, on the whole: to say that he is overpowered by }
immediate pleasure or pain into making a bad choice, is a wrong
description—the real fact being, that he is deficient in the proper
knowledge how to choose. In the Gorgias, the doctrine assigned
to Kalliklés and impugned by Sokrates is something very
different. That justice, temperance, self-restraint, are indeed
indispensable to the happiness of ordinary men ; but if. there be
any one individual, so immensely superior in force as to trample
down and make slaves of the rest, this one man would be a fool
if he restrained himself: having the means of gratifying all his
appetites, the more appetites he has, the more enjoyments will he
have and the greater happiness! Observe—that Kalliklés
applies this doctrine only to the one omnipotent despot: to all
other members of society, he maintains that self-restraint is
essential. This is the doctrine which Sokrates in the Gorgias
undertakes to refute, by denying community of nature between
the pleasurable and the good—between the painful and the
evil.

To me his refutation appears altogether unsuccessful, and the
position upon which he rests it incorrect. _The only
parts of the refutation really forcible, are those in tion of Kal-
which he unconsciously relinquishes this position, and goxrates in
slides into the doctrine of the Protagoras. Upon this the Gorgias,
latter doctrine, a refutation might be grounded: you cessful—it
may show that even an omnipotent despot (regard for Siccesstul
the comfort of others being excluded by the hypo- as he adopts
thesis) will gain by limiting the gratification of his tionally the
appetites to-day so as not to spoil his appetites of to- doctrine of
morrow. Even in his case, prudential restraint is the Prota-
required, though his motives for it would be much
less than in the case of ordinary social men. But Good, as laid
down by Plato in the Gorgias, entirely disconnected from plea-

1 Plato, Gorgias, p. 492 B.

352 GORGIAS. Cap. XXIV.

sure—and Evil, entirely disconnected from pain—have no
application to this supposed despot. He has no desire for such
Platonic Good—no aversion for such Platonic Evil His happi-
ness is not diminished by missing the former or incurring the
latter. In fact, one of the cardinal principles of Plato’s ethical
philosophy, which he frequently asserts both in this dialogue
and elsewhere,'—That every man desires Good, and acts for the
sake of obtaining Good, and avoiding Evil—becomes untrue, if
you conceive Good and Evil according to the Gorgias, as having
no reference to pleasure or the avoidance of pain: untrue, not
merely in regard to a despot under these exceptional conditions,
but in regard tc the large majority of social men. They desire
to obtain Good and avoid Evil, in the sense of the Protagoras: but
not in the sense of the Gorgias? Sokrates himself proclaims in
this dialogue : “1 and philosophy stand opposed to Kalliklés and
the Athenian public. What I desire is, to reason consistently '
with myself.” That is, to speak the language of Sokrates in the
Protagoras—To me, Sokrates, the consciousness of inconsistency
with myself and of an unworthy character, the loss of my own
self-esteem and the pungency of my own self-reproach, are the
greatest of all pains: greater than those which you, Kalliklés,
and the Athenians generally, seek to avoid at all price and urge
me also to avoid at all price—poverty, political nullity, exposure

‘1 Plato, Gorgias, pp. 467 C, 499 E. minerat” (says Heindorf) ‘‘ vir doctus
orgies reasoning of Plato in the ceteros in Piatone locos, ubi eodem
ting this matter, rests modo ex duplici 118 poteatate -
a nan oon an equivocal phrase The Greek mentatio ducitur, cujusmodi plura -
εὖ πράττειν two m ; limus ad Charmidem, 42, 172 A.”
t means recté agere, to act righ Heindorf observes, on the
and it also means felicem esse, to Le: ὡς jreumenti hojos vim positam
happy. There is a “Ἂς a apparet in duplici dictionis εὖ πράττειν
double sense in κακῶς πράττειν. Hein- significatu: quam vulgo sit /felicem
dorf has well noticed the fallacious esse, non recté facere, Hoc aliaque
reasoning founded by Plato on this ejusdem ny cophlsmnae ssepius sic ansam
double sense. We read in the Gor- prebuerunt hismatis magis qcam
Fics p. 507 C: ἀνά ἄγκη, τὸν σώφρονα, usti syllogismi” Heind in Plate,
ἕκαιον ὄντα καὶ a: νδρεῖον καὶ ὅσιον, ers to analogo
ὃν ἄνδρα εἶναι τελέως, τὸν δὲ dya- Repub. i. p. OA : ib. 4 ty
ν εὖ τε καὶ καλῶς πράττειν ἃ Gy B,p. 184A. A similar fallacy is found
πράττῃ, τὸν δ᾽ εὖ πράττοντα μακάριόν in Aristotle, Politic. vii. ip. 1823, a. 17,
Te καὶ εὐδαίμονα εἶναι, τὸν δὲ πονηρὸν b. 82—dpiora γὰρ πράττειν προσήκει τοὺς
καὶ κακῶς πράττοντα ἄθλιον. Upon ἄριστα ,πολιτενομένους--ἀδύνατον δὲ κα-
which Heindorf remarks, citing a note λῶς πράττειν τοῖς μὴ τὰ καλὰ πράττουσιν.
of Routh, who says, ‘ ‘Vix enim potest This fallacy is recognised an ἃ properly
credi, Platonem uplici sensu ver- commented on asa ““]

borum εὖ πράττειν ad argumentum spiel,” by Bernays, in instractive
robandum abuti voluisse, que fal- volume, Die Dialoge des Aristoteles, pp.
facia esset amphibolis”. ‘‘Non me- 80-81 (Berlin, 1863).

Crap. XXIV. DOCTRINE OF THE GORGIAS UNTENABLE. 353

to false accusation, &c.”! The noble scheme of life, here re-
commended by Sokrates, may be correctly described according
to the theory of the Protagoras: without any resort to the
paradox of the Gorgias, that Good has no kindred or reference to
Pleasure, nor Evil to Pain.

Lastly—I will compare the Protagoras and the Gorgias
(meaning always, the reasoning of Sokrates in each permanent
of them) under one more point of view. How does elements—
each of them describe and distinguish the permanent sient ele- _
elements, and the transient elements, involved in human
human agency? What function does each of them eeney—
assign to the permanent element? The distinction them is ap-
of these two is important in its ethical bearing. The precited
whole life both of the individual and of society con- ‘dialogues.
sists of successive moments of action or feeling. But each in-
dividual (and the society as an aggregate of individuals) has
within him embodied and realised an element more or less per-

- manent—an established character, habits, dispositions, intellectual
acquirements, &c.—a sort of capital accumulated from the past.
This permanent element is of extreme importance. It stands to
the transient element in the same relation as the fixed capital of
a trader or manufacturer to his annual produce. The whole use
and value of the fixed capital, of which the skill and energy of
the trader himself make an important part, consists in the
amount of produce which it will yield: but at the same time the
trader must keep it up in its condition of fixed capital, in order
to obtain such amount: he must set apart, and abstain from de-
- voting to immediate enjoyment, as much of the annual produce
as will suffice to maintain the fixed capital unimpaired—and ~
more, if he desires to improve his condition. The capital cannot
be commuted into interest ; yet nevertheless its whole value de-
pends upon, and is measured by, the interest which it yields.
Doubtless the mere idea of possessing the capital is pleasurable to
the possessor, because he knows that it can and will be profitably
employed, so long as he chooses.

Now in the Protagoras, the permanent element is very
pointedly distinguished from the transient, and is 1 the Pro.
called Knowledge—the Science or Art of Calculation, ‘goras.

1 Plato, Gorgias, pp. 481 D, 482 B.
' 2—23

354 GORGIAS. CuHap. XXIV.

Its function also is clearly announced—to take comparative esti-
mate and measurement of the transient elements; which are
stated to consist of pleasures and pains, present and future—near
and distant—certain and uncertain—faint and strong. To these
elements, manifold yet commensurable, the calculation is to apply.
“The safety of life” (says Sokrates') “resides in our keeping up
this science or art of calculation.” No present enjoyment must
be admitted, which would impair it; no present pain must be
shunned, which is essential to uphold it. Yet the whole of its
value resides in its application to the comparison of the pleasures
and pains.

In the Gorgias the same two elements are differently described,
In the and less clearly explained. The permanent is termed,
Gorgias. § Order, arrangement, discipline, a lawful, just, and
temperate, cast of mind (opposed to the doctrine ascribed to Kal-
likles, which negatived this element altogether, in the mind of the
despot), parallel to health and strength of body : the unordered
mind is again the parallel of the corrupt, distempered, helpless,
body ; life is not worth having ‘until this is cured.? This corre-
sponds to the knowledge or Calculating Science in the Protagoras ;
but we cannot understand what its function is, in the Gorgias,
because the calculable elements are incompletely enumerated.

In the Protagoras, these calculable elements are two-fold—im-
mediate pleasures and pains—and future or distant pleasures and
pains. Between these two there is intercommunity of nature, so
that they are quite commensurable ; and the function of the cal-
culating reason is, to make a right estimate of the one against the
other.* But in the Gorgias, no mention is made of future or
distant pleasures and pains: the calculable element is represented
only by immediate pleasure or pain—and from thence we pass at
once to the permanent calculator—the mind, sound or corrupt.
You must abstain from a particular enjoyment, because it will

1 Plato, Protag. p. 857 A. ἐπειδὴ δὲ community of nature, if along with the
ἡδονῆς τε καὶ λύπης ἐν ὀρθῇ a “Soe, pains in and I pleasures of the agent | him.
Ἱμῖν ἡ σωτηρία τοῦ βίον o σα, A one are regarded Θ

ἐφ "Ie "rAdovos καὶ ἐλάττονος καὶ μεί- calculation of Sokrates in the Prota-
goves | καὶ σμικροτέρον καὶ ποῤῥωτέρω καὶ goras) you admit into the calculation

MY Pintd, Gorgias, pp. 504 B-C, 606 cerned, and the es established with
D-E. Τάξις κόσμος — ψυχὴ κοσμία a view to both the two

ἀμείνων τοῦ axo ἃ view to the Joint i inte both οἱ of t the
3 There would baal also the like inter- agent and of others.

‘Cnar. XXIV. DEFECTIVE PSYCHOLOGY OF THE GORGIAS. 355

taint the soundness of your mind : this is a pertinent reason (and
would be admitted as such by Sokrates in the Protagoras, who
instead of sound mind would say, calculating intelligence), but it
is neither the ultimate reason (since this soundness of mind is
itself valuable with a view to future calculations), nor the only
reason : for you must also abstain, if it will bring upon yourself
(or upon others) preponderating pains in the particular case—if
the future pains would preponderate over the present pleasure.
Of this last calculation no notice is taken in the Gorgias : which
exhibits only the antithesis (not merely marked but even over-
done) between the immediate pleasure or pain and the calcu-
lating efficacy of mind, but leaves out the true function which
gives value to the sound mind as distinguished from the unsound
and corrupt. That function consists in its application to particu-
lar cases: in right dealing with actual life, as regards the ‘agent
himeelf and others: in ἐνεργεία, as distinguished from ἕξις, to use
Aristotelian language? I am far from supposing that this part
of the case was absent from Plato's mind. But the theory laid
cout in the Gorgias (as compared with that in the /Protagoras)
leaves no room for it ; giving exclusive prominence to the other
elements, and acknowledging only the present pleasure or pain,
to be set against the permanent condition of mind, bad or good
88 it may be.

Indeed there is nothing more remarkable in the Gorgias, than
the manner in which Sokrates not only condemns the Charecterot
unmeasured, exorbitant, maleficent desires, but also the Gorgia,
depreciates and degrades all the actualities of life—all
the recreative and elegant arts, including music and $2 thes
poetry, tragic as well as dithyrambic—all provision life.
for the most essential wants, all protection against particular

Epikurusand his followers: See the letter of to Me
tue Gated vane in Geile non, Dio Eo: Puere-
to the, permanent element. or tin, τ, 18-45, vi. 12-95; oral. pint

of “he agent, 13, 0d
ὃ 5 Ατίδίο. Ethic. Nikom. 1. 7. The

nf
Εἰ
Ἐ
ξ
πὶ
A
é
i
rf

Ethie
altogether disparate and foreign to Sees e tiie b. pr ila,

906

GORGIAS.

CaP. XXIV.

sufferings and dangers, even all service rendered to another per-
son in the way of relief or of rescue \—all the effective mainten-
ance of public organised force, such as ships, docks, walls, arms,
&c. -Immediate satisfaction or relief, and those who confer it,
are treated with contempt, and presented as in hostility to the
perfection of the mental structure. And it is in this point of
view that various Platonic commentators extol in an especial
manner the Gorgias : as recognising an Idea of Good superhuman
and supernatural, radically disparate from pleasures and pains of
any human being, and incommensurable with them: an Uni-
versal Idea, which, though it is supposed to cast a distant light

1 Plato, Gorgias, pp. 501-502-511-
512-517-519. dvev γὰρ δικαιοσύνης καὶ
σωφροσύνης λιμένων καὶ νεωρίων καὶ
τειχὼν καὶ φόρων καὶ τοιούτων φλναριῶν
ἐμπεπλήκασι τὴν πόλιν.

This is applied to the provision of
food, drink, clothing, bedding, for the
hunger, thirst, &c., of the community
(p. 517 b), to the saving of life (p. 511 D).
‘The boatman between Atgina and
Peirsus (says Plato) brings over his
passengers in safety, together with

heir families and property, preserving

them from all the dangers of the sea.
The ineer, who constructs
fortifications, preserves from er
and destruction all the citizens with
their families and their property
(p. 512 B). But neither of these per-
sons takes credit. for this service: be-
cause both of them know that it is
doubtfal whether they have done an
real service to the persons preserv
since they have not rendered them an
better; and that it is even doub
whether they may not have done them
an actual mischief. Perhaps these

rsons may be wicked and corrupt ;

n that case it is a misfortune to them
that their lives should be prolonged ;
it would be better for them to die.
It is under this conviction (cays
Plato) that the boatman and the
engineer, thoug ey do preserve
our ives, take to themselves no credit
or

We shall hardly find any greater
‘rhetorical exaggeration than this,
among all the compositions of the
rhetors against whom Plato d
war in the Gorgias. Moreover, it is a
‘specimen of the way in which Plato
colours'and misinterprets the facts of

than
eclares bl —is a question which neither
they, themmelren: nor the steersman

social life, in order to serve the pur-

Fie says traly that when the passage

boat from y to Peirsus has

reached its destination, the steersman

the shore. without taking any greet
e shore, ou an

credit to hi , as if fe had per-

formed a brilliant deed or conferred
an important service. But how does
Plato explain this? By erbposing in
the steersman’s mind feelings which
never enter into the mind of a real
agent; feelings which are put into
words only when a moralist or a satirist
is anxious to enforcea sentiment. The
service which the steersman pérforms
is not only adequately remunera
but is, on most days, ‘a regular an
easy one, such as every man who has
gone through a decent apprenticeship
can rform. But suppose an excep-
ο

> day—su ἃ sudden and
terrible storm to supervene on the

passage — uP the boat fall af
passengers, every prospect
on board bein drowned suppose she

. Ὶ case ill, on
reaching the land, walk about of
elate self-congratulation and pride :.
the passengers will encou this
sentiment by expressions of the dee ;
gratitude ; while friends as well as
competitors will praise his successful
exploit. How of the passengers
there are for whom the preservation of
life may be a curse rather a

nor the public, will ever dream of
asking. .

’ Cuap. XXIV ELEMENTS OF HAPPINESS DEPRECIATED. 357

upon its particulars, is separated’ from them by an incalculable
space, and is discernible only by the Platonic telescope.

We have now established (continues Sokrates) that pleasure is
essentially different from good, and pain from evil:
also, that to obtain good and avoid evil, a scientific οἱ rene
choice is required—while to obtain pleasure and avoid Tesumed— |
pain, is nothing more than blind imitation or irra- arts of flat-
tional knack. There are some arts and pursuits which - tery, aiming
aim only at procuring immediate pleasure—others 800 ples-
which aim at attaining good or the best ;' some arts,
for a single person,—others for a multitude. Arts and. pursuits
which aim only at immediate pleasure, either of one or of ἃ multi-
tude, belong to the general head of Flattery. Among them are all
the musical, choric, and dithyrambic representations at the festi-
vals—tragedy as well as comedy—also political and judicial
rhetoric. None of these arts aim at any thing except to gratify
the public to whom they are addressed : none of them aim at the
permanent good : none seek to better the character of the public.
They adapt themselves to the prevalent desires: but whether
those desires are such as, if realised, will make the public worse
or better, they never enquire. ?

Sokr.—Do you know any public speakers who aim at anything
more than gratifying the public, or who care to make TheRhetors
the public better? Kall—There are some who do, aim only at
and others who do not. Sokr.—Which are:those who the public—
do? and which of them has ever made the public best past

1The Sokrates of the Pro to foresee, estimate, and compare
would have admitted a twofol dis. the consequences, requires a scientific
tinction of aims, but would have stated calculation often very difficult and
the distinction otherwise. Two thi compiicated—a τέχνη OF ἐπιστήμη μετ-
dhe would say) may be looked at
regard to any course of conduct: first, Pr Thus we are told not only in what
the immediate ndly thot or pain which cases the calculation is required, but
it yields; seco this item, not alone, what are the elements to be taken into
but combined all the other plea- the calculation. In the Gorgias, we
sures and pains with all can be foreseen are not told on what elements the cal-
as its conditions, consequences, or culation of good and evil is to be based :
concomitants. To obey the desire of we are told that there must be science,
immediate pleasure, or the fear of but we learn nothing more.
immediate pain, requires no science ; 2 Plato, Gorgias, pp. 502-503.

358 GORGIAS. Cuap. XXIV.

Bhetors better?/ Kall—At any rate, former statesmen did
nothing olse so ; such as Miltiades, Themistokles, Kimon, Perikles.
me tation of Sokr.—None of them. If they had, you would have
Rhetors by. seen them devoting themselves systematically and
Kallikles, obviously to their one end. As a builder labours to
construct a ship or a house, by putting together its various parte
with order and. symmetry—so these statesmen would have
laboured to implant order and symmetry in the minds and bodies
of the citizens: that is, justice and temperance in their minds,
health and strength in their bodies.* Unless the statesman can
do this, it is fruitless to supply the wants, to fulfil the desires
and requirements, to uphold or enlarge the power, of the citizens.
This is like supplying ample nourishment to a distempered body :
the more such a body takes in, the worse it becomes. The
citizens must be treated with refusal of their wishes and with
punishment, until their vices are healed, and they become good. *

We ought to do (contintes Sokrates) what is pleasing for the
Neesssity Sake of what is good : not vice vered. But every thing
for tempe- becomes good by possessing its appropriate virtue or
Intion’ on order, regulation. The regulation appropriate to the mind
This is the | is, to be temperate. The temperate man will do what
virtueand is just—his duty towards men: and what is holy—his
happiness. duty towards the Gods. He will be just and holy.
He will therefore also be courageous: for he will seek only such
pleasures as duty permits, and he will endure all such pains as
duty requires. Being thus temperate, just, brave, holy, he will
be a perfectly good man, doing well and honourably throughout.
The man who does well, will be happy: the man who does ill
and is wicked, will be miserable.‘ It ought to be our principal
aim, both for ourselves individually and for the city, to attain
temperance and to keep clear of intemperance: not to let our
desires run immoderately (as you, Kallikles, advise), and then
seek repletion for them : which is an endless mischief, the life of
a pirate. He who pursues this plan can neither be the friend of
any other man, nor of the Gods: for he is incapable of com-
munion, and therefore of friendship. *

1 Plato, Gorgias, D 508 °. Routh and Heindorf's notes).
2 Plato, Gorgias, p. 504 D 5 Plato, Go ἢ 507 EB. κοινωνεῖν
3 Plato, Gorgias, p. 505 505 B. dp ἀδύνατος. ὅτῳ δὲ μὴ ὄνι κοινωνία,

4 Plato, Gorgias, p. 607 D (with φιλία οἱκ ἂν εἴη.

Cuap. XXIV. CONDITIONS OF POLITICAL SUCCESS. 359

Now, Kallikles (pursues Sokrates), you have reproached me
with standing aloof from public life in order to pursue yrpossible
philosophy. You tell me that by not cultivating to succeed
public speaking and public action, I am at the mercy life, unless
of any one who chooses to accuse me unjustly and to
bring upon me severe penalties. But I tell you, that akin to and
it is a greater evil to do wrong than to suffer wrong; with the
and that my first business is, to provide for myself "ling force.
such power and such skill as shall guard me against doing wrong."
Next, as to suffering wrong, there is only one way of taking pre-
cautions against it. You must yourself rule in the city: or you
must be a friend of the ruling power. Like is the friend of like :?
a cruel despot on the throne will hate and destroy any one who
is better than himself, and will despise any one worse than him-
self. The only person who will have influence is, one of the
same dispositions as the despot : not only submitting to him with
good will, but praising and blaming the same things as he does—
accustomed from youth upwards to share in his preferences and
aversions, and assimilated to him as much as possible.* Now if
᾿ the despot be a wrong-doer, he who likens himself to the despot
will become a wrong-doer also. And thus, in taking precautions
against suffering wrong, he will incur the still greater mischief
and corruption of doing wrong, and will be worse off instead of
better.

_ Kall—But if he does not liken himself to the despot, the
despot may put him to death, if he chooses? Sokr.— Danger of
Perhaps he may : but it will be death inflicted by a onewho dis
bad man upon a good man.* To prolong life is not the public,
the foremost consideration, but to decide by rational either for
thought what is the best way of passing that length ‘oF worse.
of life which the Fates allot. Is it my best plan to do as you

1 Plato, Gorgias, p. 509 C. Com- δὴ ἐκεῖνος μόνος ἄξιος λόγου φίλος τῷ
pare 68, vill. 829 A, where τὸ μὴ τοιούτῳ, ὃς ἄν, ὁμοήθης wy, ταὐτὰ ψέγων
ἀδικεῖν is described as easy of attain- καὶ ἐπαινῶν, ἐθέλῃ ἄρχεσθαι καὶ ὑπο-
ment; τὸ μὴ ἀδικεῖσθαι, as being παγ- κεῖσθαι τῷ ἄρχοντι. Οὗτος μέγα ἐν
χάλεπον : and both equally necessary ταύτῃ τῇ πόλει δυνήσεται, τοῦτον οὐδεὶς
πρὸς τὸ εὐδαιμόνως ἣν. χαίρων ἀδικήσει. . . . Αὕτη ὁδός ἐστιν,

2 Plat. Gorg. 510 φίλος---ὁ ὅμοιος εὐθὺς ἐκ νέου ἐβίζειν αὑτὸν τοῖς αὑτοῖς
τῷ ὁμοίῳ. e have already seen this χαίρειν καὶ ἄχθεσθαι τῷ δε » καὶ
principle discussed and rejected inthe παρασκενάζειν ὅπως ὅ τι μάλιστα ὅμοιος

ysis, p. 214. See above, ch. xx., p. ἔσται ἐκείνῳ. .
179. , 4 Plato, Gorgias, p. 511 B.
3 Plato, Gorgias, p. 5100. λείπεται 5 Plato, Gorgias, pp. 511 B, 512 E.

360 GORGIAS. CHap XXIV.

recommend, and to liken myself as much as possible to the
Athenian people—in order that I may become popular and may
acquire power in the city? For it will be impossible for you to
acquire power in the city, if you dissent from the prevalent
political character and practice, be it for the better or for the
worse. Even imitation will not be sufficient : you must be, by
natural disposition, homogeneous with the Athenians, if you in-
tend to acquire much favour with them. Whoever makes you
most like to them, will help you forward most towards becoming
an effective statesman and speaker: for every assembly delight
in speeches suited to their own dispositions, and reject speeches
of an opposite tenor. 1

Such are the essential conditions of political success and popu-
Sokrates re- larity. But I, Kalliklés, have already distinguished
solyes upon two schemes of life; one aiming at pleasure, the other
spcheme of aiming at good: one, that of the statesman who studies
study's . the felt wants, wishes, and impulses of the people,
manent displaying his genius in providing for them effective
good, and’ satisfaction—the other, the statesman who makes it
dinte satis his chief or sole object to amend the character and

| disposition of the people. The last scheme is the
only one which I approve : and if it be that to which you invite
me, we must examine whether either you, Kallikles, or I, have
ever yet succeeded in amending or improving the character of
any individuals privately, before we undertake the task of
amending the citizens collectively.2 None of the past statesmen
whom you extol, Miltiades, Kimon, Themistokles, Perikles, has
produced any such amendment.’ Considered as ministers,
indeed, they were skilful and effective ; better than the present
. Statesmen. They were successful in furnishing satisfaction to
the prevalent wants and desires of the citizens: they provided
docks, walls, ships, tribute, and other such follies, abundantly : 4

1 Plato, Gorgias, Ῥ. 618 A. καὶ νῦν μιμητὴν Set εἶναι, ἀλλ᾽ αὐτοφνῶς ὅμοιον

δὲ ἄρα δεῖ σε ὡς ὁμοιότατον γίγνεσθαι τῷ τούτοις, εἰ μέλλεις τι γνήσιον ἀπεργάζεσ-

δημῳ τῷ ᾿Αθηναίων, εἰ μέλλεις τούτῳ θαι εἰς φιλίαν τῷ ᾿Αθηναίων δήμῳ.

προσφιλὴς εἶναι καὶ μέγα δύνασθαι ἐν τῇ 2 Plato, Gorgias, p. 515 A.

πόλει. .. . εἰ δέ σοι οἴει ὃντινοῦν ἀνθρώ- 3 Plato, Gorgias, pp. 516, 517.

wev παραδώσειν τέχνην τινὰ τοιαύτην, ἥ 4 Plato, Gorgias, pp. 617, 610. ἄνεν

τίς σε ποιήσει μέγα δύνασθαι ἐν τῇ πόλει γὰρ σωφροσύνης καὶ δικαιοσύνης λιμένων
nse, ἀνόμοιον ὄντα τῇ πολιτείᾳ καὶ νεωρίων καὶ τειχῶν καὶ φόρων καὶ

qtr ἐπὶ τὸ βέλτιον εἴτ᾽ ἐπὶ τὸ τοιούτων φλναριῶν ἐμπεπλήκασι τὴν

χεῖρον, οὐκ ὀρθῶς βουλεύει" ov γὰρ πόλιν.

\
Cuap. XXIV. SOKRATES’S SCHEME OF LIFE. 361

but they did nothing to amend the character of the people—to
transfer the desires of the people from worse things to better
things—or to create in them justice and temperance. They thus
did no real good by feeding the desires of the people : no more
good than would be done by a skilful cook for a sick man, in
cooking for him a sumptuous meal before the physician had
cured him.

I believe myself (continues Sokrates) to be the only man in
Athens,—or certainly one among a very few,—who Sokrates
am a true statesman, following out the genuine pur- announces
poses of the political art.! I aim at what is best for himself ss
the people, not at what is most agreeable. Ido not only man at
value those captivating accomplishments which tell follows out
in the Dikastery. If I am tried, I shall be like a fhe tre
physician arraigned by the confectioner before a jury Danger of
of children. I shall not be able to refer to any plea-
sures provided for them by me: pleasures which they call bene-
fits, but which I regard as worthless. If any one accuses me of
corrupting the youth by making them sceptical, or of libelling
the older men in my private and public talk—it will be in vain
for me to justify myself by saying the real truth.—Dikasta, I do
and say all these things justly, for your real benefit. I shall not
‘ be believed when I say this, and I have nothing else to say: 80
that Ido not know what sentence may be passed on me.? My
only refuge and defence will be, the innocence of my life. As
for death, no one except a fool or a coward fears that: the real
evil, and the greatest of all evils, is to pass into Hades with a
corrupt and polluted mind.*

Sokrates then winds up the dialogue, by reciting a Νέκνια, ἃ
mythe or hypothesis about judgment in Hades after Mythe re-
death, and rewards and punishments to be appor- es, and
tioned to deceased men, according to their merits the treat-
during life, by Rhadamanthus and Minos. The ceased per-
greatest sufferers by these judgments (he says) will be in ‘accord.
the kings, despots, and men politically powerful, who ing to their
have during their lives committed the greatest in- ing life—

1 Plato, Gorgias, p. 521 D. yap τὸ ἀποθνήσκειν οὐδεὶς φοβεῖται, ὅστις
2 Plato, Gorgias, pp. 521-522. μὴ παντάπασιν ἀλόγιστός τε καὶ ἄνανδρός
3 Plato, Gorgias, p. 522 E. αὐτὸ μὲν ἐστι, τὸ δὲ ἀδικεῖν φοβεῖται͵ ὥς.

362 GORGIAS. Cnap. XXIV.

the philoso. justices,—which indeed few of them avoid. The
Per eco, man most likely to fare well and to be rewarded, will
from Public be the philosopher, “who has passed through life
then be re- minding his own business, and not meddling with
warded. [ἢ affairs of others ”.”

“Dicuntur ἰδία magnifice,” *—we may exclaim, in Ciceronian
words, on reaching the close of the Gorgias. It is
“nical τ ‘ pre-eminently solemn and impressive ; all the more
so, from the emphasis of Sokrates, when proclaiming
ordogma- the isolation in which he stands at Athens, and the
tical cha- = contradiction between his ethico-political views and
the Gorgias. those of his fellow-citizens. In this respect it harmo-
nises with the Apology, the Kriton, Republic, and Leges: in all
which, the peculiarity of ‘his ethical points of view stands pro-
claimed—especially in the Kriton, where he declares that his
difference with his opponents is fundamental, and that there can
be between them no common ground for debate—nothing but
reciprocal contempt.‘
The argument of Sokrates in the Gorgias is interesting, not
merely as extolling the value of ethical self-restraint,
litics but also as considering political phenomena under
conceives this point of view: that is, merging politics in ethics.
the riieoal The proper and paramount function of statesmen (we
teachers find it eloquently proclaimed) is to serve as spiritual
Sfthecom teachers in the community: for the purpose of
munity. § amending the lives and characters of the citizens, and
of converting them from bad dispositions to good. We are ad-
monished that until this is effected, more is lost than gained by
realising the actual wants and wishes of the community, which
are disorderly and distempered : like the state of a sick man,

1 Plato, Gorgias, pp. 525-526. Platonic Apology. He seems to have
3 Plato, Gorgias, p. 526 C. φιλοσό- fancied that no one was πολυπράγμω
gov τὰ. αὑτοῦ πράξαντος, καὶ οὐ πολυ- exce t those who see Dikestoy: y y in

wpa μονήσαντος εἰ ἐν τῷ βί esia and the

that these terms
do not correspond to the life of So. ὁ Cicero, De Finib. iii. 3, 11.

krates, as he himself describes it in the 4 Plato, Kriton, p. 49 D.

Cnap. XXIV. PLATONIC IDEAL OF GOVERNMENT. 363

who would receive harm and not benefit from a sumptuous
banquet.

This is the conception of Plato in the Gorgias, speaking
through the person of Sokrates, respecting the ends ἡ ραὶ of
for which the political magistrate ought to employ Plato—a -
his power. The magistrate, as administering law and law-giver
justice, is to the minds of the community what the ΟΣ mh
trainer and the physician are to their bodies : he pro- scientific
duces goodness of mind, as the two latter produce
health and strength of body. The Platonic tdéal is 311 charac-
that of a despotic law-giver and man-trainer, wielding suant to
the compulsory force of the secular arm for what he types of
believes to be spiritual improvement. However in- bis own.
structive it is to study the manner in which a mind like that of
Plato works out such a purpose in theory, there is no reason for
regret that he never had an opportunity of carrying it into prac-
tice. The manner in which he always keeps in view the stand-
ing mental character, as an object of capital importance to be
attended to, and as the analogon of health in the body—deserves
all esteem. But when he assumes the sceptre of King Nomos
(as in Republic and Leges) to fix by unchangeable authority
what shall be the orthodox type of character, and to suppress all
the varieties of emotion and intellect, except such as will run
into a few predetermined moulds—he oversteps all the reasonable
aims and boundaries of the political office.

Plato forgets two important points of difference, in that
favourite and very instructive analogy which he per- platonic
petually reproduces, between mental goodness and ®2alosy
bodily health. First, good health and strength of the mental
body (as I have observed already) are states which Boe cdily
every man knows when he has got them. Though health—
there is much doubt and dispute about causes, preser- analogy—
vative, destructive, and restorative, there is none Stances of
about the present fact. Every sick man derives from ‘ifference.
his own sensations an anxiety to get well. But virtue is not a
point thus fixed, undisputed, indubitable : it is differently con-
ceived by different persons, and must first be discovered and
settled by a process of enquiry; the Platonic Sokrates himself, in
many of the dialogues—after declaring that neither he nor any

364 GORGIAS. Cuap. XXIV.

one else within his knowledge, knows what it is—tries to find it
out without success. Next, the physician, who is the person
actively concerned in imperting health and strength, exercises no
coercive power over any one: those who consult him have the
option whether they will follow the advice given, or not. To
put himself upon the same footing with the physician, the politi-
cal magistrate ought to confine himself to the function of advice ;
a function highly useful, but in which le will be called upon to
meet argumentative opposition, and frequent failure, together
with the mortification of leaving those whom he cannot convince,
to follow their own mode of life. Here are two material diffe-
rences, modifying the applicability of that very analogy on which
Plato so frequently rests his proof. .
In Plato’s two imaginary commonwealths, where he is him-
self despotic law-giver, there would have been no
the Gorgias tolerable existence possible for any one not shaped
speaks like upon the Platonic spiritual model. But-in the
amonga Gorgias, Plato (speaking in the person of Sokrates)
of fixed is called upon to define his plan of life in a free state,
opinions. where he was merely a private citizen. Sokrates re-
Impossible ceives from Kallikles the advice, to forego philosophy ©
senter,on and to aspire to the influence and celebrity of an
poin active public speaker. His reply is instructive, as
should revealing the interior workings of every political
pu licin- society. No man (he says) can find favour as an
adviser—either of a despot, where there is one, or of a
people where there is free government—unless he be in harmony
with the sentiments and ideas prevalent, either with the ruling
Many or the ruling One. He must be moulded, from youth up-
wards, on the same spiritual pattern as they are :! his love and
hate, his praise and blame, must turn towards the same things :
he must have the same tastes, the same morality, the same <¢déal,
as theirs : he must be no imitator, but a chip of the same block.
If he be either better than they or worse than they,? he will fail
in acquiring popularity, and his efforts as a competitor for public

1 Plato, Gorgias, p. 510 C-D. ὁμοή- Arora ὅμοιος ἔσται ἐκείνῳ. 518 B: οὗ
Ons ὦν, ταὐτὰ ψέγων καὶ ἐπαινῶν τῷ μιμητὴν δεῖ εἶναι GAA’ αὐτοφνῶς ὅμοιον
ἄρχοντι. . . . εὐθὺς ἐκ νέον ἐθίζειν αὑτὸν τούτοις.
τοῖς αὐτοῖς χαίρειν καὶ ἄχθεσθαι τῷ δεσ- 2 Plato, Gorgias, p. 513 A, εἶτ᾽ ἐπὶ
πότῃ, καὶ παρασκενάζειν ὅπως 5 τι μά- τὺ βέλτιον εἴτ᾽ ἐπὶ τὸ χεῖρον.

Guar. XXIV. POSITION OF A DISSENTER. 365

infltence will be not only-abortive, but pethaps dangerous to
himself.

‘The reasons which Sokrates gives here (as well as in the
Apology, and also in the Republic) for not
embarking in ee etition of political aspirants, fannie
are of very general application. He isan innovator 9%" jsola
in religion ; and a dissenter from the received ethica, his country.
polities, social sentiment, and estimate of life and con- ἰδ throws
duct! Whoever dissents upon these matters: from geen mdi
the governing force (in whatever hands that may lation and
happen to reside) has no chance of being listened to
asa political counsellor, and may think himself fortunate if he
escapes without personal hurt or loss. Whether his dissent be
for the better or for the worse, is a matter of little moment : the
ruling body always think it worse, and the consequences to the
dissenter are the same.

Herein consiste the real antithesis between Sokrates, Plato,
and philosophy, om the one side—Perikles, Nikit spt
Kleon, Demosthenes, and rhetoric, on the other. between
“You,” (says Sokrates to Kalliklés),? “are in love ἔα
with the Athenian people, and take up or renounce “Tic.
such opinions 88 they spprove or discountenance : I am in love
with philosophy, and follow her guidance. You and other active
politicians do not wish to have more than a smattering of philo-
sophy ; you are afraid of becoming unconsciously corrupted, if
you carry it beyond such elementary stage.”* Each of these

1 Plato, Gorgias, p. 622 B; These- denounced by most of the Platonic
ΠΟΤᾺ 179; Menon, p. 79. giteg anit I pore low and worthloas
Plato, Gorgias, p. 481 B, ‘Yet it was held by many of the most

Plato, Gorgias, p. 487 Ὁ. ἐ ble citizens of antiquity ; and

ὑμῖν τοιάδε τις, πρ a sagas ie juestion ΠΕ ΕἸ int, 9 of fact, that
We icpipelar pacer μας aaa which as een in debate be

φοβέρα, ράσο Agocre Be terse tion and the life of action.

re. Teokrates ‘same view both

‘The view here advocated by Kalli; in Orat, xv. De Fermutatione, sect

τ is weo2e7, Up. Asb-48e, Bekker’ and

aaa be ior youre of it ie Sat ia δι εἶν τοὶ

ear of ite , 7 ier μὲν οὖν περὶ

Peder to qaality parssus for effective rar’ σμελοίος ταῦτα γρόνον τοῦ στρ

‘of the duties of active citizen- βονλεύσαιμ᾽ ἂν τοῖς νεωτέροις, μὴ μέν-

ship, but that it ought not to bemade τοὶ wehei σιν τὴν αὐτῶι
‘main ἴσαν

oeoupation of ‘matare lie ἴσαν πὶ τούτοις, ἄς.

nor be prosecuted up to the pitch of Gloaro a uotes a similar opinion Pat

‘sgcarete theorising = this, view. since by ania tho post inte the mou
feoptolemus, Di nis A rene

366 GORGIAS. Cuap. XXIV.

orators, discussing political measures before the public assembly,
appealed to general maxims borrowed from the received creed of
morality, religion, taste, politics, ὥς. His success depended
mainly on the emphasis which his eloquence could lend to such
maxims, and on the skill with which he could apply them to the
case in hand. But Sokrates could not follow such an example.
Anxious in his research after truth, he applied the test of
analysis to the prevalent opinions—found them, in his judgment,
neither consistent nor rational—constrained many persons to
fee] this, by an humiliating cross-examination—but beeame dis-
qualified from addressing, with any chance of assent, the as-
sembled public.

That in order to succeed politically, a man must be a genuine
believer in the creed of King Nomos or the ruling
onewho force—cast in the same spiritual mould—{I here take
dissents, (Ὡς word creed not as confined to religion, but as

ts, embracing the whole of a man’s critical <«déal, on
fixed opi- moral or social practice, politics, or taste—the ends
niong and | which he deems worthy of being aspired to, or proper
country- to be shunned, by himself or others) is laid down by
Sokrates as a general position: and with perfect
truth. In disposing of the force or influence of government,
whoever possesses that force will use it conformably to his own
maxims. A man who dissents from these maxims will find no
favour in the public assembly ; nor, probably, if his dissent be
grave and wide, will he ever be able to speak out his convictions
aloud in it, without incurring dangerous antipathy. But what
is to become of such a dissenter’—the man who frequents the
same porticos with the people, but does not hold the same creed,

Gell. v. sect etandam ex phi- point, in my notes at the end of the
Josophia, censet, non in eam ingurgi- Phapter o on the Euthydémus, p. 230.

in describing the education Horat. Epist. £ 1, 70—
who was taken by his «Quod si me popalus Romanus forté

: or cur
colt ees ο. ἀν Ὁ c. 4-:--“ Memoria teneo, Non ut porticibus, sic judiciis fruar

se in prima
quo consi stadium. phil Philosophie, ultra = Nec sequar an ant fogiam qu diligit
mano i vel odi
usisse; ni prudentia matris incen- Oliméou
quod valpes segroto cauta leoni
sum ac flagrantem animum coercuis- ndit, referam : Quia me vestigis

I have already cited this last
sage, and commented upon the same Omnis te sdversum spectantia, nulla

Caap. XXIV. INDIVIDUAL REASON AGAINST ORTHODOXY. 367

nor share their judgments respecting social expetenda and fugienda?
How is he to be treated by the government, or by the orthodox
majority of society in their individual capacity? Debarred, by
the necessity of the case, from influence over the public councils
—what latitude of pursuit, profession, or conduct, is to be left to
him as a citizen? How far is he to question, or expose, or
require to be proved, that which the majority believe without
proof? Shall he be required to profess, or to obey, or to refrain
from contradicting, religious or ethical doctrines which he has
examined and rejected? Shall such requirement be enforced by
threat of legal penalties, or of ill-treatment from individuals,
which is not less intolerable than legal penalties? What is
likely to be his character, if compelled to suppress all declaration
of his own creed, and to act and speak as if he were believer in
another ? |

The questions here suggested must have impressed themselves
forcibly on the mind of Plato when he recollected Probable
the fate of Sokrates. In spite of a blameless life, feelings of
Sokrates had been judicially condemned and executed this sub-_
for publicly questioning received opinions, innovating put forward
upon the established religion, and instilling into pias οὶ Gor-
young persons habits of doubt. To dissent only for indepen-
the better, afforded no assurance of safety: and Plato standi for
knew well that his own dissent from the Athenian philosophy,
public was even wider and more systematic than that the indis-
of his master. The position and plan of life for an ine
active-minded reasoner, dissenting from the esta- ™mation
blished opinions of the public, could not but be an
object of interesting reflection to him. The Gorgias (written, in
my judgment, long after the death of Sokrates, probably after the
Platonic school was established) announces the vocation of the
philosopher, and claims an open field for speculation, apart from
the actualities of politics—for the self-acting reason of the
individual doubter and investigator, against the authority of

1I have already to tho enquiring an f
treatise of Mr. John Stuart themselves, with the fixed opinions
“05 Liberty,” where this important of the majori , is one of the main

is in a manner equally conditions whi i a

wie d and htened. To ive fro stati
profound an @ cO- progressive ma onary com-
existence of individual reasoners munity.

263. GORGIAS. Cuap. XXIV.

numbers and the pressure of inherited tradition. A formal
assertion to this effect was worthy of the founder of the Academy
—the earliest philosophical school at Athens. Yet we may
observe that while the Platonic Sokrates in the Gorgias adopts
the life of philosophy, he does not renew that farther demand
with which the historical Sokrates had coupled it in his Apology
—the liberty of oral and aggressive cross-examination, addressed
to individuals personally and indiscriminately —to the primores
sas well as to the populum tributwem. The fate of Sokrates
rendered Plato more cautious, and induced him to utter his
ethical interrogations and novelties of opinion in no other way
except that of lectures to chosen hearers and written dialogue :
borrowing the name of Sokrates or some other speaker, and
refraining upon system (as his letters? tell us that he did) from
publishing any doctrines in his own name.
As a man dissenting from received opinions, Sokrates had his
path marked out in the field of philosophy or indi-
Importance idual speculation. To such a mind as his, the fullest
ing the _ liberty ought to be left, of professing and defending
liberty of his own opinions, as well as of combating other
Tendency of opinions, accredited or not, which he may consider
orthodosy false or uncertified.* The public guidance of the
towards in- state thus falls to one class of minds, the activity of
speculative discussion to another: though accident

1 Plat. Apol. Sokr. PP, 2122-23-28 Ἑ. νομα ἐν τῇ πόλει yiyve σθαι" , ἀλλ᾽

τοῦ δὲ θεοῦ τάττοντος, ὡς ἐγὼ ᾷ ceidy done τὸν τῷ ΤΡ μαχούμενον
Te καὶ ὑπέλαβον, φιλοσοφοῦντά με εν τοῦ δικαίον, καὶ ἢ εἰ “udder λέγον

(ἕν καὶ ἐξετάζοντα ἐμαντόν τε ἐδιωτεύειν ἀλλὰ μὴ

καὶ τοὺς ἄλλους, &. δημοσιεύειν.

3 Plat. Epist. ii 814 B. K Ε. Her- The © reader will find the speculative
mann(Ueber Platon’sSchriftstellerische individuality of Sokrates illustrated in
tial dixvation, 290) treats any such pruden- the sixty eighth chapter of my History

in respect to the form of Greece.
and mode of putting forward un ular The antithesis of the philosophising
opinions, as unworthy of P‘ato, and τς gatos ea a ee ray ated

. Sext. Emp. adv. Mathemat. ix. s. where—was them

; but the passage of Plato cited by dialogue called Hortensius: wherein

Hermann does not prove it. Hortensius was introduced pleading the

3 So Sokrates also says in the Pla- cause against philosophy, (see Orelli,

tonic Apology, pp. 31-82. Οὐ γὰρ ἔστιν Fragm. Ciceron. pp. £70480), while

ὅστις ἀλίρει obser σωθήσεται οὔτε ὑμῖν οὔτε the ot other speakers were provided iy
ἄλλῳ © to ι γνησίως ἐναντιούμε- th arguments in d

vos, καὶ διακωλύων πολλὰ ἄδικα καὶ παρά- fence ofp philosophy, partly als. against

βαρ, XXIV. IMPORTANCE OF FREE DISCUSSION. 369

_ Inay produce, here and there, a superior individual, comprehen-
sive or dexterous enough to suffice for both. But the main
desideratum is that this freedom of discussion should exist: that
room shall be made, and encouragement held out, to the claims
of individual reason, and to the full publication of all doubts or
opinions, be they what they may: that the natural tendency of
all ruling force, whether in few or in many hands, to perpetuate
their own dogmas by proscribing or silencing all heretics and
questioners, may be neutralised as far as possible. The great
expansive vigour of the Greek mind—the sympathy felt among
the best varieties of Greeks for intellectual superiority in all its
forms—and the privilege of free speech (παῤῥησία), on which the
democratical citizens of Athens prided themselves—did in fact
neutralise very considerably these tendencies in Athens. A
greater and more durable liberty of philosophising was procured
or Athens, and through Athens for Greece generally, than had
ever been known before in the history of mankind.

This antithesis of the philosophical life to the rhetorical or
political, constitutes one of the most interesting fea- |. ne.
tures of the Platonic Gorgias. But when we follow tween phi-
the pleadings upon which Plato rests this grand leophy and
issue, and the line which he draws between the two satisfac:
functions, we find much that is unsatisfactory. Since handled by
Plato himself pleads both sides of the case, he is Fite. gor,
bound in fairness to set forth the case which he ‘rhetoric.
attacks (that of rhetoric), as it would be put by com- manner in

rhetoric. The competition between the had recommended an active life; nay,
teachers of rhetoric and the teachers he talks of Plato among the phil -
of philosophy continued to be not merely phere actively engaged in practical re-
anlmated ut bitter, from Plato down- ormatory legislation through Dion and
ward throughout the Ciceronian age. the pupils of the Academy (p. 1126,
(Cicero, De Orat. L 45-46-47-75, &.) B. Ν᾿ Here Plgtarch mistakes: the
We read in the treatise of Plutarch Platonic tendencies were quite different
the Epikurean Koldétes, an acri- from what he supposes. The G
monious invective against Kpikuras and Thesetétus enforce upon the ο-
and his followers, for recommending sopher a life quite apart from politics,
pu his own course, and not
men from active political functions meddling with others—¢.ro0gddgov τὰ
(Plutarch, adv. Kol pp, 1135 C,1127- αὑτοῦ πράξαντος καὶ οὐ πολνπραγμονή-
ἢ like in other trea- σαντος ev τῷ βίῳ (Gorg. 526 C); Which
, Non Posse Suaviter Vivisecundum is the same advice as Epikurus gave.
Bat Plutarch at the same It is set forth eloquent! tn the
time speaks asif Epikurusweretheonly of Lucretius, but it had been set fo
. osopher who had recommend previously, not less eloquently, in the
and asif all the other philosophers rhetoric of Plato.

2—24

370 GORGIAS. Cuap. XXIV.

which it ts petent and honourable advocates—by Perikles, for
by Polusand example, or Demosthenes, or Isokrates, or Quintilian.

ikles. He does this, toacertain extent, in the first part of
the dialogue, carried on by Sokrates with Gorgias. But in the
succeeding portions—carried on with Pélus and Kalliklés, and
occupying three-fourths of the whole—he alters the character of
the defence, and merges it in ethical theories which Perikles, had
he been the defender, would not only have put aside as mis-
placed, but disavowed as untrue. Perikles would have listened
with mixed surprise and anger, if he had heard any one utter
the monstrous assertion which Plato puts into the mouth of
Polus—That rhetors, like despots, kill, impoverish, or expel
any citizen at their pleasure. Though Perikles was the moat
powerful of all Athenian rhetors, yet he had to contend all his
life against fierce opposition from others, and was even fined
during his last years. He would hardly have understood how
an Athenian citizen could have made any assertion so completely
falsified by all the history of Athens, respecting the omnipotence
of the rhetors. Again, if he had heard Kalliklés proclaiming
that the strong giant had a natural right to satiate all his desires
at the cost of the weaker Many—and that these latter sinned
against Nature when they took precautions to prevent him—
Perikles would have protested against the proclamation as em-
phatically as Plato.}

If we suppose Perikles to have undertaken the defence of the
Perikies § rhetorical element at Athens, against the dialectic
τοις μον element represented by Sokrates, he would have ac-
defence of — cepted it, though not a position of his own choosing,

Plato hes on the footing on which Plato places it in the mouth
pat it into of Gorgias : “ Rhetoric is an engine of persuasion ad-
of Gorgias. dressed to numerous assembled auditors: it ensures
freedom to the city (through the free exercise of such a gift by
many competing orators) and political ascendency or command
‘to the ablest rhetor. It thus confers great power on him who
possesses it in the highest measure: but he ought by no means to
employ that power for unjust purposes.” It is very probable
that Perikles might have recommended rhetorical study to So-

1 Perikles might indeed have referred to his own egyrical oration
‘Thucydides, fi. 87. ᾿ in

Crap. XXIV.

UNFAIR TREATMENT OF RHETORIC.

371

krates, as a means of defending himself against unjust accusa-
tions, and of acquiring a certain measure of influence on public
affairs." But he would have distinguished carefully (as Horace
does) between defending yourself against unjust attacks, and
making unjust attacks upon others: though the same weapon

may suit for both.

Farther, neither Perikles, nor any defender of free speech,

would assent to the definition of rhetoric—That it is
a branch of the art of flattery, studying the imme-
diately pleasurable, and disregarding the good.?_ This
indeed represents Plato’s own sentiment, and was true
in the sense which the Platonic Sokrates assigns (in
the Gorgias, though not in the Protagoras) to the
words good and evil. But it is not true in the sense
which the Athenian people and the Athenian public

1 Horat. Satir. ff. 1, 39--

** Hic stilus haud petet ultro
Quemquam animantem; et me veluti

custodiet ensis
Vagina tectus; quem cur destringere
coner,
Tutus ab infestis latronibus? Oh pater
rex
Jupiter! ut pereat positum rubigine

um,

Nee quisquam noceat cupido mihi
ἶ in! At ille ὰ

Qui me commérit (melius non tangere !

0
Flebit, et insignis tot& cantabitur
urbe.”

We need only read the Memorabilia
of Xenophon (ii. 9),
histori Sokrates judged of these
matters differently from the Platonic
Sokrates of the Gorgias. Kriton com-
plained to Sokrates that life was diffi-
cult at Athens for a quiet man who
wished only to mind his own business
‘(ra ἑαντοῦ πράττειν); because there
were persons who brought unjust actions
at law against him, for the purpose of
extorting money to buy them off. The
Platonic Sokrates of the Gorgias would
have replied to him: ‘‘ Never mind:
you are just, and these assailants are

ust: they are by their own conduct
en upon themselves a terrible
distemper, from which, if you leave
them unpunished, they will suffer all
their lives: they injure themselves
more than they injure you”. But the

conceived.

historical Sokrates in Xenophon replies
in quite another spirit. He advises
Kriton to look out for a clever and
active friend, to attach this n to
his interest by attention and favours,
assailants, Accordingly, 8 hoor but
assailants. gly, a r bu
energetic man named irchedemus is
found, who takes Kriton’s part against
the assailants, and even counter-
attacks nst them, which force them
to leave Kriton alone, and to give money
to Archedemus himself. 6 advice
piven by the Xenophontic Sokrates to
Kriton is the same in principle as the
advice given by Kallikles to the Pla-
on ihe reniy: posed by the rhetor
e y com y the rhe
Aristeides to the Gorgias of Plato is
well dese of perusal, though (like
all his compositions) it is very prolix
and wordy. See A des, Ora
xlv. and xlvi.—Qepi Ῥητορικῆ
Ὑπὲρ τῶν Τεττάρων. Θ of
the two orations he defends the four
eminent Athenians (Miltiades, The-
mistoklée, Periklés Kimon) whom
disparages e orelas.
Aristeides insists forcibly on the
rtial and narrow view here taken by
lato of persuasion, as ἃ, working force
both for establishing laws and carrying
on government. Heremarks truly
that there are only two forces between
which the choice must be made, in-
timidation and persuasion : that the
substitution of persuasion in place of
force is the great improvement which

372

GORGIAS.

Cuap. XXIV.

men assigned to those words. Both the one and the other used
the words pleasurable and good as familiarly as Plato, and had
sentiments corresponding to both of them. The pleasurable and
painful referred to present and temporary causes: the Good and
Evil to prospective causes and permanent situations, involving

security against indefinite future suffering,

combined with love

of national dignity and repugnance to degradation, as well as
with a strong sense of common interests and common obligations
to each other. To provide satisfaction for these common patriotic
feelings—to sustain the dignity of the city by effective and even
imposing public establishments, against foreign enemies—to pro-
tect the individual rights of citizens by an equitable administra-
tion of justice—counted in the view of the Athenians as objects
good and honourable: while the efforts and sacrifices necessary
for these permanent ends, were, so far as they went, a renuncia-

has made p ablic and private life worth
ving (μένη Orat. ele Ὁ οἷ, ἡμῖν ἐπε τοίηκε τὸν

dorf); that

bo. discussed and

‘hem, without ῥητορικὴ as the en ine

ttacking
right to single out despots and violent
conspirators as illustrations of it. -el7’
ἐλέγχειν μὲν βούλεται τὴν ῥητορικήν,
κατηγορεῖ δὲ τῶν τυράννων καὶ δυνασ-
τῶν, τὰ ἅμικτα μιγνύς --τίς γὰρ
οὐκ οἶδεν, ὅτι ῥητορ καὶ τυραννὶς
τοσοῦτον ἀλλήλων κεχωρίσται, ὅσον τὸ
πείθειν τοῦ βιάζεσθαι (p. 990) He im-
pugns the distinction which Plato has
ale een eet do. Ton μναστική,

j, "Ἐμοθετική, on the one
εἷς δι whi Pla’ τέχναι, arts or
sciences, and

Ἢ ἀὐατον ὑο ΤοαΡ ΟΣ ἡυγροσὴ
rinciples—an ᾿
x: the other raid, which ΤῊ Plato

hang
βίον ΟΝ laws Cot

physician not less analogies, rhetor +
45-48-49) ;
krates puimse affirms i in another dia-
ogue, us, p. 56

The most curious part of the argo.
ment of Aristeides is Pere he disputes
the Prerogative which Plato

to ants sane ecg πασα , than

claimed for ἰατρική eeraing arte aa
on the ground οἱ of their
reducible to rules. The he Gtects of
human art (says Aristeides) are much
inferior to those of θεία μοῖρα or divine
inspiration. Many patients are cured
of by human art; but man
more are cured by the responses an
directions of the phian oracle, by
the suggestion of dreams, and by other
varieties of the divine prompting, de- de-
livered through the pricetess,
& woman al yehian ν (p. 11).
καίτοι μικρὰ μ ν ἥ πάντας εἰδνῖα λόγονς
ἰατρικὴ «πρὸς τὰς ἐκ Δελφῶν δύναται
λύσεις, & ὅσαι καὶ ἰδίᾳ καὶ κοινῇ καὶ νόσων
παθημάτων ἁπάντων ἀνθρωπίνων
ἐφάνθησαν, Patients who are cured in
this way by the Gods without medical
art, acquire a natural impulse which
leads them to the appropriate remedy
το υθνμία αὐτοὺς ἄγει ἐπὶ τὸ ὄνησον

to (p. 20). Aristeides says that he can

depose—from his own personal
. experience as a sick man see cure,
and from personal knowledge of many

other such—how much more efficacious
in healing is aid from the Gods, ven

from physicians ; who Tight well’shud-
der w mA they heard the stories which
he could (pp. 21-22). To under-
value science and art (he saya) is is
the principle from which men start,
when they flee to the Gods for hel elp-
τοῦ “καταφνγεῖν ἐπὶ τοὺς θεοὺς ox
ἀρχή, τὸ Tas τέχνης ὑπεριδεῖν ἔστιν.

Cusp. XXIV. “GOOD,” AS CONCEIVED BY THE ATHENIANS. 373

tion of what they would call the pleasurable. When, at the be-
ginning of the Peloponnesian war, the Athenians, acting on the
advice of Perikles, allowed all Attica to be ravaged, and sub-
mitted to the distress of cooping the whole population within the
long walls, rather than purchase peace by abnegating their Hel-
lenic dignity, independence, and security—they not only re-
nounced much that was pleasurable, but endured great imme-
diate distress, for the sake of what they regarded as a permanent
good.! Eighty years afterwards, when Demosthenes pointed out
to them the growing power and encroachments of the Macedonian
Philip, and exhorted them to the efforts requisite for keeping
back that formidable enemy, while there was yet time—they
could not be wound up to the pitch requisite for affronting so
serious an amount of danger and suffering. They had lost that
sense of Hellenic dignity, and that association of self-respect with
active personal soldiership and sailorship, which rendered sub-
mission to an enemy the most intolerable of all pains, at the
time when Perikles had addressed them. They shut their eyes
to an impending danger, which ultimately proved their ruin.
On both these occasions, we have the pleasurable and the good
brought into contrast in the Athenian mind ; in both we have
the two most eminent orators of Grecian antiquity enforcing the
good in opposition to the pleasurable: the first successfully, the
last vainly, in opposition to other orators..

Lastly, it is not merely the political power of the Athenians
that Perikles employs his eloquence to uphold. He Rhetoric
dwells also with emphasis on the elegance of taste, ™™* ployed at
on the intellectual force and activity, which war- Athens in
ranted him in decorating the city with the title of #Ppeins
Preceptress of Hellas.* All this belongs, not to the various, Εὰ
pleasurable as distinguished from the good, but to sentiments

1 Nothing can be more at variance λαιπωρεῖν δόξαντι καλῷ (to use the
with the doctrine which Plato assigns setreoeive Thiass of καλῷ Glee a . 58)
to Kalliklés in the Gorgias, than the was a remarkable feature in the
three memorable speeches of Perikles racter of the Athenians of that ae
in Thucydides, i. 144, ii. 86, ii. 60, it was subdued for the moment by
All these speeches are etrated overwh: misery of pestilence and
guia, which’ the "Platoule, Sokraten bana
fa whic Θ Cc
extols : not one of them co 3 Thucyd. ii. 41-42. ξνυνελών τε λέγω
Ἢ Φλκονεξίαν, which the PlatonicSokrates Τήν τὸ πᾶσον πόλιν τῆς Ἑλλάδος παίδευ-
forbids (Gorg. 508 E). Tod προστα- TY vate XC.

rat

wee eet eee τὸ fe wile eed if
foe Serie τὶ sui fiattered
fhe sence τὸ fe eee αἱ ἢν ὥααδεηιδεαα did—
ἣν Sete ees Sling Geer eerie towards good.
Sot Ξε Soret oe Se wee. (Seregth ee ably aed power-
jlo, ston ee ταστανας Sreoewrrs τῇ theese sentiment,
‘or Ὧν fimo τοῖος Wimeesenum, wiih we shell come to im a
frmor See
The wee erie: wih Maar deve ther ageiest Rhetoric,
πω τ wee et oe Se wits he ἱπουπας μδξοῦ of Good
geet, se ——— ἀπὲ Ξῶσ παμά Fete rhetors, to
wwe τοῖν a Ieee veguire thet ἴων shell explain, wherein
te dress | Se ste Geed—be whet mek is Gistinguich-
ote sient ae wie αἀπτοδεῖστεν pre-commence is claimed
ox gent. ie Ὦ Se fer, medend, we abvamee by the help of
oes ποεῖν smite" αν dincipime, health and strength
—— ef bete—abet we are coed upen to recognise, apart
fren afi yeecienior weements of eejovment or saffering, of action

ΜΠ
᾿

amemblage
neither Plato nor Aristotle approve of its results Order and
discipline attained full perfection in the armies of Julius Cesar
and the French Emperor Napoleon ; in the middle ages, also,

1 Plat. Gorg. p. 504.

Cuap. XXIV. PLATONIC ORDER—UNDEFINED RESULTS, 375

several of the monastic ordérs stood high in respect to finished
discipline pervading the whole character: and the Jesuits stood
higher than any. Each of these systems has included terms
equivalent to justice, temperance, virtue, vice, &., with senti-
ments associated therewith, yet very different from what Plato
would have approved. The question—What is Virtue?—Vir
bonus est quis?—will be answered differently in each. The
Spartans— when they entrapped (by a delusive pretence of
liberation and military decoration) two thousand of their bravest
Helot warriors, and took them off by private assassinations,\—did
not offend against their own idea of virtue, or against the Platonic
exigency of Order—Measure—System.

It is therefore altogether unsatisfactory, when Plato—pro-
fessing to teach us how to determine scientifically, pow to dis-
which pleasures are bad, and which pains are good— criminate
refers to a durable mental order and discipline. Of onder ren
such order there existed historically many varieties ; the wrong.
and many more are conceivable, as Plato himself has not advise
shown in the Republic and Leges. By what tests is τ
the right order to be distinguished from the wrong? If by its
results, by what results }—calculations for minimising pains, and
maximising pleasures, being excluded by the supposition? Here
the Sokrates of the Gorgias is at fault. He has not told us by
what scientific test the intelligent Expert proceeds in determining
what pleasures are bad, and what pains are good. He leaves
such determination to the unscientific sentiment of each society
and each individual. He has not, in fact, responded to the
élear and pertinent challenge thrown out by the Sokrates of the
Protagoras.

I think, for these reasons, that the logic of the Gorgias is not
at all on a par with its eloquence. But there isone ». (οταὶ
peculiar feature which distinguishes it among all the upholds the
Platonic dialogues. Nowhere in ancient literature is 7O0Pe ,
the title, position, and dignity of individual dissent- disnity of
ing opinion, ethical and political—against established ing phi
ethical and political orthodoxy—so clearly marked *?°*
out and so boldly asserted. “The Athenians will judge as they

1 Thucydid. iv. 80.

376 GORGIAS. Cuar. XXIV.

think right: none but those speakers who are in harmony with
them, have any chance of addressing their public assemblies with
effect, and acquiring political influence. I, Sokrates, dissent
from them, and have no chance of political influence: but I
claim the right of following out, proclaiming, and defending, the
conclusions of my own individual reason, until debate satisfies
me that I am wrong.”

CHaP. XXV. PHEDON. 377

CHAPTER XXvV.
PHEDON.

Tue Phedon is characterised by Proklus as a dialogue wherein
Sokrates unfolds fully his own mental history,- and The Pheedon
communicates to his admirers the complete range of 38 /irma-

tive and

philosophical cognition. This criticism is partly expository.
well founded. The dialogue generally is among the most affir-
mative and expository in the Platonic list. Sokrates undertakes ~
to prove the immortality of the soul, delivers the various reasons ”
which establish the doctrine to his satisfaction, and confutes ~
some dissentient opinions entertained by others. In regard to ~
the exposition, however, we must consider ourselves as listening
to Plato under the name of Sokrates: and we find it so con-
ducted as to specify both certain stages through which the mind
of Plato had passed, and the logical process which (at that time)

8 peared to him to conviction.

he interest felt by most readers in the Phedon, however,
depends, not so much on the argumentative exposi- and circum ;
tion (which Wyttenbach? justly pronounces to be stan

1 Proklus, in Platon. Republ. p. 892. ἀρίστον, καὶ ἄλλως steamers καὶ
ἐν Φαίδωνι γὰρ ὅ ὅπον διαφερόντως ὃ δικαιοτάτον. rase τῶν τότε,
Σωκράτης τὴν ἑαυτοῦ ζωὴν ἀναπλοῖ, καὶ which ously probe’ ae slipped un-
πᾶν τὸ τῆς ἐπιστήμης πλῆθος ἀνοίγει to imp es that
τοῖς ἑαυτοῦ φηλωταῖς, &e. Ἢ Sokrates t Belonged to th genera-
bach thinks (note, ad p. 108 that tion. The of. e dialogue
Plato was young when he composed undoubtedly shows that Plato intended
the Phedon. But nosufficient grounds to place it shortly after the death of
are given for this: and the concluding Sokrates; but the word τότε at the
sentence of the dialogue affords good end is inconsistent with this sup
presumption that it was composed tion, and comes out unconsciously as
many years after the death of Sokrates a mark of the real time.

--ἧδε ἡ he ὦ Ἐχέκρατες, τοῦ 3 896 the Prolegomens prefixed to
éraipov ἡμῖν ἃ ἀγένετο, arb 9 ws ἡμεῖς Wyttenbach’s edition of the Phsedon,
φαῖμεν ἄν, τῶν τότε ὧν ἐπειράθημεν p. xxi. p. 10.

PHADON. Cuap. XXV.

obscure and difficult as well as unsatisfactory) as on
the personality of the expounding speaker, and the
irresistible pathos of the situation. Sokrates had
been condemned to death by the Dikastery on the day
after the sacred ship, memorable in connection with

the legendary voyage of Theseus to Krete, had been dispatched
on her annual mission of religious sacrifice at the island of Delos.
The Athenian magistrates considered themselves as precluded from
putting any one to death by public authority, during the absence
of the ship on this mission. Thirty days elapeed between her
departure and her return: during all which interval, Sokrates
remained in the prison, yet with full permission to his friends to

visit him.

They passed most of every day in the enjoyment of

his conversation.! In the Phszedon, we read the last of these con-
versations, after the sacred vessel had returned, and after the

Eleven

tes had announced to Sokrates that the draught

of hemlock would be administered to him before sunset. On
communicating this intelligence, the magistrates released Sokrates
from the fetters with which he had hitherto been bound. It is
shortly after such release that the friends enter the prison to see
him for the last time. One of the number, Phedon, recounts to
Echekratés not only the conduct and discourse of Sokrates
during the closing hours of his life, but also the swallowing of
the poison, and the manner of his death.

More than fifteen friends of the philosopher are noted as

and those

present at this last scene: but the only two who take
an active part in the debate, are, two young Thebans
named Kebés and Simmias* These friends, though
deeply attached to Sokrates, and full of sorrow at the
irreparable logs impending over them, are represented
as overawed and fascinated by his perfect fearlessness,

of Sokrates. serenity, and dignity.* They are ashamed to give
vent to their grief, when their master is seen to maintain his

Coppeera that ition became bal ἢ hate Sn TS

in a certain sum of
should remain in

Phsedon, A.
rison and not escape (Plat. Phedon,
iS D; Kriton, 45 B). Kriton τῶν νεανίσκων τὸν λέγον; Be. se (8 At
would have been obliged to to pay this 8 Plato, Phsedon, pp. 58-59.

Cuap. XXV. LAST HOURS OF SOKRATES. 379

ordinary frame of mind, neither disquieted nor dissatisfied. The ~
fundamental conception of the dialogue is, to represent Sokrates ~
as the same man that he was before his trial ; unmoved by the -
situation—not feeling that any misfortune is about to happen to - “
him—equally delighting in intellectual debate—equally fertile in -
dialectic invention. So much does he care for debate, and so
little for the impending catastrophe, that he persists in a great
argumentative effort, notwithstanding the intimation conveyed
by Kriton from the gaoler, that if he heated himself with talking,
the poison might perhaps be languid in its operation, so that two
or three draughts of it would be necessary instead of one.’ So-
krates even advances the position that death appears to him as a
benefit rather than a misfortune, and that every true philosopher
ought to prefer death to life, assuming it to supervene without
his own act—suicide being forbidden by the Gods. He is repre-
sented as “placidus ore, intrepidus verbis; intempestivas suorum
lacrimas coercens”—to borrow a phrase from Tacitus’s striking
picture of the last hours of the Emperor Otho.2 To see him
thus undisturbed, and even welcoming his approaching end,
somewhat hurts the feelings of his assembled friends, who are in
the deepest affliction at the certainty of so soon losing him.
Sokrates undertakes to defend himself before them as he had
done before the Dikasts; and to show good grounds for his
belief, that death is not a misfortune, but a benefit, to the philo-
sopher.® Simmias and Kebés, though at first not satisfied with
the reasonings, are nevertheless reluctant to produce their doubts,
from fear of mortifying him in his last moments: but Sokrates
Proven against such reluctance as founded on a misconception of
his existing frame of mind.‘ He is now the same man as he was

before, and he calls upon them to keep up the freedom of debate
unim

Indeed this freedom of debate and fulness of search—the para-

mount value of “reasoned truth”—the necessity of rmphasisof
keeping up the force of individual reason by constant forrstes in
argumentative exercise—and the right of independent freedom of

1 Plato, p. 68 D. 3 Plato, Phsedon, p. 68.
2 Tacitus, Hist. fi. 48. 4 Plato, Phsedon, p. 84 D-E.

380 PHADON. Cap. XXV.

| debate, judgment for hearer as well as speaker—stand empha-
ercise of tically proclaimed in these last words of the dying
| indepen. Philosopher. He does not announce the immortality
| dentjudg- of the soul as a dogma of imperative orthodoxy ;
| each rea- Which men, whether satisfied with the proofs or not,
must believe, or must make profession of believing,
on pain of being shunned as a moral pestilence, and disqualified
from giving testimony in a court of justice. He sets forth his
own conviction, with the grounds on which he adopts it. Buthe
expressly recognises the existence of dissentient opinions: he
invites his companions to bring forward every objection: he
disclaims all special purpose of impressing his own conclusions
upon their minds: nay, he expressly warns them not to be
biassed by their personal sympathies, then wound up to the
y highest pitch, towards himself. He entreats them to preserve
y themselves from becoming tinged with misology, or the hatred of
7 free argumentative discussion : and he ascribes this mental vice
to the early habit of easy, uninquiring, implicit, belief: since a
man thus ready of faith, embracing opinions without any discri-
minative test, presently finds himself driven to abandon one
opinion after another, until at last he mistrusts all opinions, and
hates the process of discussing them, laying the blame upon
philosophy instead of upon his own intellect.

“For myself” (says Sokrates).“I fear that in these my last
Anxiety of hours I depart from the true spirit of philosophy—
/Sokrates like unschooled men, who, when in debate, think
'friendsaball gearcely at all how the real question stands, but care
guard only to make their own views triumphant in the
eee in minds of the auditors. Between them and me there
| fluenced by is only thus much of difference. I regard it as a
rity—that matter of secondary consequence, whether my con-
| hey shal’ clusions appear true to my hearers; but I shall do
the convic- my best to make them appear as much as possible

πάθοι ἣ λόγους μισήσα;. Ὁ. 90 Β. ἐπει-
ἸΙρῶτον εὑ ὥ τι πάθος μὴ δάν τις πιστεύσῃ λόγῳ τινὶ ἀληθεῖ εἶναι,
πάθωμεν. Td ποῖον, ἦν δ᾽ ἐγώ; Μὴ ἄνεν τῆς περὶ τοὺς τέχνης, κἄπειτα
γενώμεθα, ἣ δ᾽ ὅς, μισόλογοι, ὥσπερ οἱ ὀλίγον ὕστερον αὐτῷ ὴ
μισάνθρωποι γι οι" ὡς οὐκ ἔστιν, ἐνίοτε μὲν ὧν, ἐνίοτε δ᾽ οὐκ ὧν, καὶ

ἔφη, ὅ, τι ἄν τις μεῖζον τούτον κακὸν ἕτερος καὶ ἕτερος,

Cyar. XXV. | UNCHANGED DIALECTIC OF SOKRATES. 381

true to myself.” My calculation is as follows: mark tonsof τ
how selfish itis. If my conclusion as to the immor- reason.
tality of the soul is true, I am better off by believing it : if I am
in error, and death be the end of me, even then I shall avoid
importuning my friends with grief, during these few remaining
hours : moreover my error will not continue with me—which
would have been a real misfortune—but will be extinguished
very shortly. Such is the frame of mind, Simmias and Kebés,
with which I approach the debate. Do you follow my advice :
take little thought of Sokrates, but take much more thought of
the truth. If I appear to you to affirm any thing truly, assent
to me: but if not, oppose me with all your powers of reasoning:
Be on your guard lest, through earnest zeal, I should deceive
alike myself and you, and should leave the sting in you, like a
bee, at this hour of departure.”

This is a remarkable passage, as illustrating the spirit and
purpose of Platonic dialogues. In my preceding Remarkable
Chapters, I have already shown, that it is no part manifesta.

ῥ᾽) . tion of ear- ~

of the aim of Sokrates to thrust dogmas of his own nestinterest —

for reasoned ..

into other men’s minds as articles of faith. But then, truth an

most of these Chapters have dwelt upon Dialogues of ty

Search, in which Sokrates has appeared as an inter- dissent.

rogator, or enquirer jointly with others: scrutinising their
opinions, but disclaiming knowledge or opinions of his own.
Here, however, in the Phedon, the case is altogether different.
Sokrates is depicted as having not only an affirmative opinion,
but even strong conviction, on a subject of great moment : which
conviction, moreover, he is especially desirous of preserving
unimpaired, during his few remaining hours of life. Yet even
here, he manifests no anxiety to get that conviction into the

1 Plato, Pheedon, p. 91 A-C. Οὐ γὰρ ἀηδὴς ἔσομαι ὀδυρόμενος . . « ὧμεῖς μέν-
ὅπως τοῖς παροῦσιν Ἢ ἐγὼ λέγω δόξει τοι, ἂν ἐμοὶ πείθησθε, σμι κρὸν dpov-
ἀληθῆ « ναι αὶ προθυμήσομαι, εἰ ene τέσαντες Σωκράτους, τῆς δὲ

πάρεργον, GAA αὑτῷ ἐμοὶ ὅ τι ἁληθείας πολὺ μᾶλλον, ἐὰν
μάλιστα . οὕτως ἔχειν. λογίζομαι μέν τε ὑμῖν δοκῶ ἀληθὲς λέ-
γάρ, ὦ ἕταιρε--καὶ θέασαι ὡς γειν, ξννομολογήσατε" εἰ δὲ
πλεονεκτικῶς --- αἱ τυγχάνει ἀληθῆ μή, παντὶ ,λόγ ἀντιτείνετε,

ὄντας ἃ λέγω, καλῶς ΓΝ "ἔχει τὸ πεισθῆναι. εὐλαβούμενοι ὅπως μὴ ἐγὼ ὑπὸ προθυμίας
δὲ μηδέν ἐστι τελευτήσαντι, ἀλλ᾽ ἅμα ἐμαυτόν τε καὶ ὑμᾶς ἐξαπατήσας,
οὖν τοῦτόν τὸν χρόνον αὐτὸν τὸν ὥσπερ μέλιττα τὸ κέντρον ἐγκαταλιπὼν
πρὸ τοῦ ϑανάτον ἧττον τοῖς παροῦσιν οἰχήσομαι.

ww
ae

ἫΝ

382 PHZDON. CuHap. XXV.

minds of his friends, except as a result of their own independent
scrutiny and self-working reason. Not only he does not attempt
to terrify them into believing, by menace of evil consequences
if they do not—but he repudiates pointedly even the gentler
machinery of conversion, which might work upon their minds
through attachment to himself and reverence: for his authority.
/ His devotion is to “reasoned truth”: he challenges his friends
to the fullest scrutiny by their own independent reason: he
recognises the sentence which they pronounce afterwards as valid
for them, whether concurrent with himself or adverse. Their
reason is for them, what his reason is for him: requiring, both
alike (as Sokrates here proclaims), to be stimulated as well as
᾿ controlled by all-searching debate—but postulating equal liberty
_ Of final decision for each one of the debaters. The stress laid by
Plato upon the full liberty of dissenting reason, essential to phi-
losophical debate—is one of the most memorable characteristics
of the Phedon. When we come to the treatise De Legibus
(where Sokrates does not appear), we shall find a totally
opposite view of sentiment. In the tenth book of that trea-
tise Plato enforces the rigid censorship of an orthodox per-
secutor, who makes his own reason binding and compulsory
on all
The natural counterpart and antithesis to the Phsdon, is
Phedonand found in the Symposion.' In both, the personality of |
Symposion Sokrates stands out with peculiar force: in the one,
πα ταν and he is in the fulness of life and enjoyment, along with
contrast. festive comrades—in the other, he is on the verge of
approaching death, surrounded by companions in deep afiliction.
The point common to both, is, the perfect self-command of So-
krates under a diversity of trying circumstances. In the Sympo-
sion, we read of him as triumphing over heat, cold, fatigue,
danger, amorous temptation, unmeasured potations of wine, ἄς. :3

1Thus far I agree with Schleier- 2 Plato, to, Symposion, ἃ pp. 214 A, 219
macher (Einleitung zum Phzedon, Ῥ, 220-221 mpare Phzedon,
&c.); though I do not think t ἣν 116, 6. 117. Mareus Antoninus re
has shown sufficient und for his ἴω compares on this point his father
theory regarding the Symposion and Antoninus Pius to Sokrates: both were
the Phzedon, as join tly intended to de- capable of enjoyment as well as of ab-
pict the character of the philosopher, stinence, without ever } their self-
romised by Plato as a sequel to the command. ᾿Ἐφαρμόσειε δ' ἂν αὑτῷ
βορηιαί and the States (Plato, (Antoninus P.) To περὶ τοῦ Σωκράτους
Sophist. p. 217 ; Politic. p. Ὁ. 257.) μνημονενόμενον, ὅτι καὶ ἀπέχεσθαι καὶ

Ciap. XXV. COMPARISON WITH THE SYMPOSION. 383

in the Phzdon, we discover him rising superior to the fear of 7
death, and to the contagion of an afflicted company around him.~
Still, his resolute volition is occasionally overpowered by fits of
absorbing meditation, which seize him at moments sudden and
unaccountable, and chain him to the spot for a long time. There
is moreover, in both dialogues, a streak of eccentricity in his
character, which belongs to what Plato calls the philosophical
inspiration and madness, rising above the measure of human
temperance and prudence.! The Phzedon depicts in Sokrates the
same intense love of philosophy and dialectic debate, as the
Symposion and Phzdrus: but it makes no allusion to that per-
sonal attachment, and passionate admiration of youthful beauty,
with which, according to those two dialogues, the mental fer-
mentation of the philosophical aspirant is asserted to begin.?
Sokrates in the Phzdon describes the initial steps whereby he
had been led to philosophical study :* but the process is one
purely intellectual, without reference to personal converse with
beloved companions, as a necessity of the case. His discourse
is that of a man on the point of death—“abruptis vite blandi-
mentis ”4—and he already looks upon his body, not as furnishing
the means of action and as requiring only to be trained by
gymnastic discipline (as it appears in the Republic), but as an
importunate and depraving companion, of which he is glad to get
rid : so that the ethereal substance of the soul may be left to its
free expansion and fellowship with the intelligible world, apart
from sense and its solicitations.

We have here one peculiarity of the Phedon, whereby it
stands distinguished both from the Republic and the pisdon—
Timeus. The antithesis on which it dwells is that of compared

ἀπολαύειν ἐδύνατο τούτων, ὧν πολλοὶ &c. About the φιλόσοφος μανία, com-
* τε τὰς ἀπο cae Sova. Te ----Ὅ Pheedrus, pp. 245-

ewodavons τ Κδοτκαν κῶς, τὸ pp. 251- 258, Sym-

ty, καὶ ὅτι καρταρειν, , καὶ αἱ ἐννή- porin, bp. pp. 210-211. ὅταν τις ἀπὸ τῶνδε

fe ἑκατέρῳ, ἀνδρὸς ἐ ἐστιν ἄρτιον καὶ παιδεραστεῖν ἐπανιὼν ἐκεῖνο
tot Berane τὸ καλὸν dp ap καθορᾷν. ὁ &e. ὦ (ἿἹ B)..

tia ‘pp. 114 ΟΡ lato, Phaedon, Pp ἐγὼ οὖν

Ἐ αὶ fle περὶ αὐτῶν, Μὴ y ὝΨΗ πάθη,

a δὲ οὑτοσὶ γέγονε τὴν ai ‘A, ΤΕΣ 4 Taci Hist. fi. 58. ““ Othonis
cree Σ prema -

«ῷζροι τις ζητῶν, Gc. data respondit: ipsum viven ai-
oe a Be ἂν sed 5018 tatis cura,
τῆς pdovégon μανίας τε καὶ βακχείας, et abruptis vite blan tis.”

nani

- a

384° PHADON. Crap. XXV.

with Re- ἃ the soul or mind, on one hand—the body on the

meus. Other. The soul or mind is spoken of as one and

No recognl- indivisible: as if it were an inmate unworthily

i tripleor lodged or imprisoned in the body. It is not distri-

; lower souls.

Antithesis buted into distinct parts, kinds, or varieties: no
between —-_ mention is made of that tripartite distribution which
body. is 80 much insisted on in the Republic and Timzus :—
the rational or intellectual (encephalic) soul, located in the head
—the courageous or passionate (thoracic), between the neck and
the diaphragm—the appetitive (abdominal), between the dia-
phragm and the navel. In the Phadon, the soul is noted as the
seat of reason, intellect, the love of wisdom or knowledge,
exclusively : all that belongs to passion and appetite, is put to
account of the body :! this is distinctly contrary to the Philébus,
in which dialogue Sokrates affirms that desire or appetite cannot
belong to the body, but belongs only to the soul. In Phsedon,
nothing is said about the location of the rational soul, in the
head,—nor about the analogy between its rotations in the cranium
and the celestial rotations (a doctrine which we read both in the
Timzus and in the Republic): on the contrary, the soul is
affirmed to have lost, through its conjunction with the body, that
wisdom or knowledge which it possessed during its state of pre-
existence, while completely apart from the body, and while in
commerce with those invisible Ideas to which its own separate
nature was cognate.? That controul which in the Republic is
exercised by the rational soul over the passionate and appetitive
souls, is in the Phedon exercised (though imperfectly) by the
one and only soul over the body.* In the Republic and Timeus,
the soul is a tripartite aggregate, a community of parts, a com-
pound : in the Phedon, Sokrates asserts it to be uncompounded,
making this fact a point in his argument. Again, in the
Phsedon, the soul is pronounced to be essentially uniform and
incapable of change : as such, it is placed in antithesis with the

1 Plato, Phedon, p. 66. Compare τρία εἴδη τῆς ψνχῆς Be ear p. 489).
. D. The the abstract ‘Alkinous of

2 Plato, Phsedon, p. 76. the Platonicd . we y ead in cap. 24

3 Compare Pheedon, p. 94 C-E, with ὅτι τριμερής ἐστιν ψυχὴ καὶ κατὰ a τὸς

Republic, iv. pp. 439 C, 440 A, 441 E, δυνάμεις καὶ κατὰ λόγον -

μονοειδὲς (p. 80 B), contrasted with the ἀσκέδαστος.

Crap. XXV. DIFFERENT VIEWS ABOUT THE SOUL. 385

body, which is perpetually changing: while we read, on the
contrary, in the Symposion, that soul and body alike are in a
constant and unremitting variation, neither one nor the other
ever continuing in the same condition.’

The difference which I have here noted shows how Plato
modified his doctrine to suit the purpose of each dia- pigerent
logue. The tripartite soul would have been found doctrines of
inconvenient in the Phedon. where the argument. the soul.
required that soul and body should be as sharply {Vbether all
distinguished as possible. _ Assuming passion and. souls are or
appetite to be attributes belonging to the soul, as well the rational
as reason—Sokrates will not shake them off when he *ul alone.
becomes divorced from the body. He believes and expects that
the post-existence of the soul will be, as its pre-existence has
been, a rational existence—a life of intellectual contemplation
and commerce with the eternal Ideas: in this there is no place
for passion and appetite, which grow out of its conjunction with
the body. The soul here represents Reason and Intellect, in
commerce with their correlates, the objective Entia Rationis:
the body represents passion and appetite as well as sense, in
implication with their correlates, the objects of sensible percep-
tion.2 Such is the doctrine of the Pheedon; but Plato is not
always consistent with himself on the point. His ancient as
well as his modern commentators are not agreed, whether, when
he vindicated the immortality of the soul, he meant to speak of
the rational soul only, or of the aggregate soul with its three
parts as above described. There are passages which countenance
both suppositions.* Plato seems to have leaned sometimes to the

1 Plato, Phsedon, pp. 79-80; Sym- structive Dissertation of K. F. Her-
. 207-208. Partibus Animwz Imm

. mann
2 This is the same antithesis as we libus secundum ἐς Ἐπ nmortas
read in Xeno hon, ascribed to in- at Gottingen in the winter Seasion

his dying sons—d dxpa- 1850-1851, He inclines to the belief

τος καὶ καθ vots—rd ἄφρον σῶμα, that Plato intended to represent only
the rational soul as immo

3 us, introduct. 6. 25. ὅτε other two souls as mortal (p. 9). But

μὲν οὖν αἱ λογικαὶ ψυχαὶ ἀθάνατοι ins C) w he produces are
Χουσι κατὰ τὸν ἄνδρα τοῦτον, βεβο quite ent to show,

oer’ Gy τις" εἰ δὲ καὶ ai ἄλογοι, τὸ sometimes held one some-

μένων ὑπάρχει. Galen times the other ; and
two inferi als 2 ng ren ed that ow ta) te
or souls are m --Περὶ τῶν prove that

vee sal su ect is batadled in an in- have produced good ἊΣ the oa reasons” mig
2—25

386 PHZDON. CHap. XXV.

one view, sometimes to the other : besides which, the view taken
in the Phsedon is a third, different from both—viz.: That the
two non-rational souls, the passionate and appetitive, are not
recognised as existing.

The philosopher (contends Sokrates) ought to rejoice when
The life and death comes to sever his soul altogether from his body :
character of because he is, throughout all his life, struggling to
apenas eever himeelf from the passions, appetites, impulses
constant | and aspirations, which grow out of the body : and to

i withdraw himself from the perceptions of the cor-
| biseoalfrom oreal senses, which teach no truth, and lead only to
; Death alone deceit or confusion : He is constantly attempting to

todothis do what the body hinders him from doing completely
completely. __t prosecute pure mental contemplation, as the
only way of arriving at truth : to look at essences or things in
themselves, by means of his mind or soul in itself apart from the
Abody.! Until his mind be purified from all association with the

CSE rar ee et
icero, i 12) τὰ - soul, or
mitted here as on matters. co existence of the three souls.

irrationali do—Histoire Comparée d

runt, alii claris verbis mortalem pre- OTe babiteas le thibet de

dicarunt : τς Numentus que N. lotinee nen ** Les habitans du dua
Améri

Beholia tn PI edonem, § τὸ Khe iarge fatigues el ἦς périln, ‘Lee peuples ἀν
e 65 e
construction ad by Numenius Canada se représentent les Ames sous

bya in the .70E. gons, les habitans du Sud de PAsie,
I must here remark that ermann croient entendre leurs voix dans l’écho:
does nt note the sPhedon a Plato's n'étalent pas éerangers & cette τ
n the on an ’s n’étaien Ts
Pthen in this— Les N pee ere

other dialogues, égres t la

That in hasdon, Plato suppresses de l’Ame apres la vie encore lige ἃ

all mention of the two non-rational celle du corps, et fondent sur cette idée
the onate and appetitive: une foule de iques.”

insomuch it we had only the 1 Plato, Ρ mn, p. 66 EB εἰ μέλ-

Phedon remaining, we should not λομέν wore καθαρῶς τι εἴσεσθαι, éwer-

πὰρ. XXV. LIFE A STRUGGLE BETWEEN SOUL AND BODY. 387

body, it cannot be brought into contact with pure essence, nor ~
can his aspirations for knowledge be satisfied.1 Hence his whole ~~
life is really a training or approximative practice for death, which
alone will enable him to realise such aspirations? Knowledge
or wisdom is the only money in which he computes, and which
he seeks to receive in payment. He is not courageous or tem-
perate in the ordinary sense: for the courageous man, while
holding death to be a great evil, braves it from fear of greater
evils—and the temperate man abstains from various pleasures,
because they either shut him out from greater pleasures,
or entail upon him disease and poverty. The philosopher is
courageous and temperate, but from a different motive: his Ζ
philosophy purifies him from all these sensibilities, and makes~
him indifferent to all the pleasures and pains arising from the a“
body : each of which, in proportion to its intensity, corrupts his
perception of truth and falsehood, and misguides him in the
search for wisdom or knowledge.‘ While in the body, he feels
imprisoned, unable to look for knowledge except through a
narrow grating and by the deceptive media of sense. From this
durance philosophy partially liberates him,—purifying his mind,
like the Orphic or Dionysiac religious mysteries, from the conta-
gion of body ὅ and sense : disengaging it, as far as may be during
life, from sympathy with the body : and translating it out of the
world of sense, uncertainty, and mere opinion, into the invisible
region of truth and knowledge. If such purification has been
fully achieved, the mind of the philosopher is at the moment of
death thoroughly severed from the body, and passes clean away
by itself, into commerce with the intelligible Entities or realities.
On the contrary, the soul or mind of the ordinary man, which
has undergone no purification and remains in close gouls of the
implication with the body, cannot get completely amphi, τ
separated even at the moment of death, but remains sophical

rai pias pte τὰ γον ματα. ban phscubeivres Lovigven με-
πρᾶοι, ai B μὴ κα- λετῶσι

Cape ween ee 3 Plato, P Pp. 09 A. ἀλλ’
ee τμας ἐκεῖνο μόνον τὸ μισμα ὀρθόν, a
Σ boo P. 64 A. xed ον δ δεῖ ἅπαντα ταῦτα καταλλάτνεσθαι,

peas
The eras TOUS GA- ore Pinto, Pheedon, pp. 60-83-84.
ἀστὸς ὅτι Nass baw obi hint αὑτοὶ ἐπιτηδεύουσιν 5 Plato, Phzdon, ἢ. 82 E.

-«-

-- TE AN NS NS AAA erase een

PHZDON. Caap. XXV.

afterdeath (eucrusted and weighed down by bodily accompani-
the, ments, 80 as to be unfit for those regions to which
ferent | Mind itself naturally belongs. Such impure minds or
The phito- souls are the ghosts or shadows which haunt tombe ;
eopher Ν and which become visible, because they cling to the
lieved from | Visible world, and hate the invisible! Not being fit
all com: for separate existence, they rcturn in process of time
th into conjunction with fresh bodies, of different species

_ of men or animals, according to the particular temperament

which they carry away with them.? The souls of despots, or of
violent and rapacious men, will pass into the bodies of wolves or
kites: those of the gluttonous and drunkards, into’ asses and
such-like animals. A better fate will be reserved for the just
and temperate men, who have been socially and politically
virtuous, but simply by habit and disposition, without any philo-
sophy or pure intellect : for their souls will pass into the bodies
of other gentle and social animals, such as bees, ants, wasps, &.,
or perhaps they may again return into the human form, and
may become moderate men. It is the privilege only of him who
has undergone the purifying influence of philosophy, and who
has spent his life in trying to detach himself as much as possible
from communion with the body—to be relieved after death from
the obligation of fresh embodiment, that his soul may dwell by
iteelf in a region akin to its own separate nature : passing out of
the world of sense, of transient phenomena, and of mere opinion,
into a distinct world where it will be in full presence of the
eternal Ideas, essences, and truth ; in companionship with the
Gods, and far away from the miseries of humanity.‘

Such is the creed which Sokrates announces to his friends in

a Plato, Phsdon,
ovea ἡ τοια
λκεται πάλιν «

. 81 6}. ὃ δὺ βέλτιστον τ τόπον ἰόντες οἱ τὴν

τικὴν Te πολιτικὴν ἀρετὴν ὕκετατε:

By τὸ
ται, πε ae τὰ ΩΝ τε καὶ τοὺς
ἐ ᾿ a al

3 Plato’ Phedon, Ῥ. 82 Α. Οὐκοῦν

εὐδαιμονέστατοι καὶ τούτων εἰσὶ καὶ εἰς

δε i δὴ καλοῦσι
καὶ δικαιοσύνην, ἐξ ἔθους τε καὶ
γεγοννῖαν ἄνεν φιλοσοφίας τε καὶ νοῦ;
ι τούτους εἰκός ἐστιν εἰς τοιοῦτον
πάλιν purdobes πολιτικόν τε καὶ ἧμε-
σφηκῶν

pov eon ἀξ ἦπον μελιττῶν ἣ ἃ
ἡ μυρμῆκ

to, Pheed 85 B, 88
8έ B. Compare τ’ Φ it c: τούτων ἐ

αὐτῶν οἱ Φιλοσοῷ ¢ ἱκανῶς κ
ἅνευ τε σωμάτων ζῶσι τὸ παράπαν εἰς τὸν
ἔπειτα χρόνον, &. Alsop. 115 Ὁ.

Crap. XXV. METEMPSYCHOSIS. 389.

the ‘Pheedon, as supplying good reason for the readi- . Special rn
ness and satisfaction with which he welcomes death. lege claim

It is upon the antithesis between soul (or mind) and sop one tn
‘body, that the main stress is laid. The partnership καὶ the Phsedon
between the two is represented as the radical cause of the virtuous
mischief : and the only true relief to the soul consists ate not phi-
in breaking up the partnership altogether, so as to losophers.
attain a distinct, disembodied, existence. Conformably to this doc-
trine, the line is chiefly drawn between the philosopher, and the
multitude who are not philosophers—not between good and bad
agents, when the good agents are not philosophers. This last
distinction is indeed noticed, but is kept subordinate. The un-
philosophical man of social goodness is allowed to pass after death
into the body of a bee, or an ant, instead of that of a kite or ass ;}
but he does not attain the privilege of dissolving connection alto-
gether with body. Moreover the distinction is one not easily
traceable: since Sokrates? expressly remarks that the large
majority of mankind are middling persons, neither good nor bad
in any marked degree. Philosophers stand in a category by
themselves : apart from the virtuous citizens, as well as from the
middling and the vicious. Their appetites and ambition ‘are
indeed deadened, so that they agree with the virtuous in abstain-
ing from injustice: but this is not their characteristic feature.
Philosophy is asserted to impart to them a special purification,
like that of the Orphic mysteries to the initiated : detaching the
soul from both the body and the world of sense, except in so far
as is indispensable for purposes of life: replunging the soul, as
much as possible, in the other world of intelligible essences, real
forms or Ideas, which are its own natural kindred and antecedent
companions. The process whereby this is accomplished is intel-
lectual rather than ethical. It is the process of learning, or (in
the sense of Sokrates) the revival in the mind of those essences
or Ideas with which it had been familiar during its anterior and
separate life : accompanied by the total abstinence from all other
pleasures and temptations* Only by such love of learning,

1 Plato, Phedon, pp. 81-82. in yee’ doctrines, ἰδ laid a er analogy to
2p to, Pheedon, p. 90 A.
3 Plato, Pheedon, Ppp. 82-115.—ras δὲ the Sena lesan ox called Sa %
(ἀδοκὰς) πε μανθάνειν ἐσπούδασε, founded | ila, as expounded
&c. (p. 1 ae.” criti fn tho treatise of M. Barthé-

390

PHAEDON. CHap. XXV.

which is identical with philosophy (φιλόσοφον, φιλομαθὲς), is the
mind rescued from the ignorance and illusions unavoidable in
the world of sense.

In thus explaining his own creed, Sokrates announces a full

conviction that the soul or mind is immortal, but he
has not yet offered any proof of it: and Simmias as
well as Kebés declare themselves to stand in need of
proof. Both of them however are reluctant to obtrude

y
upon him any doubts. An opportunity is thus pro-

vided, that Sokrates may exhibit his undisturbed
equanimity—his unimpaired argumentative readiness
—his keen anxiety not to relax the grasp of a subject
until he has brought it to a satisfactory close —
without the least reference to his speedily approach-
ing death. This last-mentioned anxiety is made
manifest in a turn of the dialogue, remarkable both

for dramatic pathos and for originality.1 We are thus brought to
the more explicit statement of those reasons upon which Sokrates

relies.

If the arguments whereby Sokrates proves the immortality of

the soul are neither forcible nor conclusive, not fally
satisfying even Simmias? to whom they are addressed
—the adverse arguments, upon the faith of which the
doctrine was denied (as we know it to have been by
many philosophers of antiquity), cannot be said to be
produced at all. Simmias and Kebés are represented
as Sokratic companions, partly Pythagoreans ; desirous
to find the doctrine true, yet ignorant of the proofs.
Both of them are earnest believers in the pre-existence
of the soul, and in the objective reality of Ideas or
intelligible essences. Simmias however adopts in

part the opinion, not very clearly explained, “That the soul is a

lemy St. Hilaire (Mémoire sur le Sank: to the cutting off of all this hair, which

278-278)—and would be among the acts of mourning

hya, Paris,
the others work, ne, by Bonddhimne, wy performed by Phsedon on the morrow,
the same d the

after the death of Sokrates: an
impressive turn given to

this remark,
Piato, Phsdon, Ὁ ΚΟ μα in reference to the solution of the pro-
remark made made by Bokrate when strok- blem then in debate.
ing down the dling the 2 plato, Pisedon, p. 107 Β.

hair of Phavion in allusion

Cap. XXV. HISTORY OF A PHILOSOPHISING MIND. 391

harmony or mixture”: which opinion Sokrates refutes, partly by
some other arguments, partly by pointing out that it is inconsis-
tent with the supposition of the soul as pre-existent to the body,
and that Simmias must make his election between the two.
Simmias elects without hesitation, in favour of the pre-existence :
which he affirms to be demonstrable upon premisses or assump-
tions perfectly worthy of trust: while the alleged harmony is at
best only a probable analogy, not certified by conclusive reasons."
Kebés again, while admitting that the soul existed before its con-
junction with the present body, and that it is sufficiently durable
to last through conjunction with many different bodies—still
expresses his apprehension that though durable, it is not eternal.
Accordingly, no man can be sure that his present body is not the
‘last with which his soul is destined to be linked ; so that imme-
diately on his death, it will pass away into nothing. The
opinion of Kebés is remarkable, inasmuch as it shows how con-
stantly the metempsychosis, or transition of the soul from one
body to another, was included in all the varieties of ancient
speculation on this subject.

Before replying to Simmias and Kebés, Sokrates is described
as hesitating and reflecting for a long time. He then Sokrates
enters into a sketch of? his own intellectual history. Pufolds the
How far the sketch as it stands depicts the real ay ee he
Sokrates, or Plato himself, or ἃ supposed mind not through
exactly coincident with either—we cannot be certain; Which his
the final stage however must belong to Plato himself. passed.

“You compel me (says Sokrates) to discuss thoroughly the
cause of generation and destruction.‘ I will tell you, First First doc-

6 of
if you like, my own successive impressions on these Sokrates as

1 Plato, Phsedon, p. 92. perties in the bodily organism—Iepi
2 Plato, Pheedon, pp. 86-05. κρᾶσιν τῶν τῆς ῥυχῆς id vol. iv. pp. T14-
καὶ ἁρμονίαν, &. 775, 779-782, ed.
esse ch e

a dally the same κα wat ie here ime ie Plato, Pheedor 95 E—06, Ov
κρᾶσις of the elements and pro- φαῦλον πρᾶγμα ζητεῖς ὅλως γὰρ δεῖ περὶ

392 . PHEDON. CHap. XXV.

Pcause. subjects. When young, I was amazingly eager for
why he _— that kind of knowledge which people call the inves-
rejected it. tigation of Nature. I thought it matter of pride to
know the causes of every thing—through what every thing is
either generated, or destroyed, or continues to exist. I puzzled
myself much to discover first of all such matters as these—Is it
a certain putrefaction of the Hot and the Cold in the system (as
some say), which brings about the nourishment of animals? Is
it the blood through which we think—or air, or fire? Or is it
neither one nor the other, but the brain, which affords to us
. sensations of sight, hearing, and smell, out of which memory and
opinion are generated: then, by a like process, knowledge is
generated out of opinion and memory when permanently fixed ?!
I tried to understand destructions as well as generations, celestial
as well as terrestrial phenomena. But I accomplished nothing,
and ended by fancying myself utterly unfit for the enquiry.
Nay—lI even lost all the knowledge of that which I had before
believed myself to understand. For example—From what cause
does a man grow? At first, I had looked upon this as evident—
that it was through eating and drinking: flesh being thereby
added to his flesh, bone to his bone, &c. So too, when a tall and
a short man were standing together, it appeared to me that the
former was taller than the latter by the head—that ten were ἡ
more than eight because two were added to them2—that a rod of
two cubits was greater than a rod of one cubit, because it pro-
jected beyond it by a half. Now—I am satisfied that I do not
know the cause of any of these matters. I cannot explain why,
when one is added to one, such addition makes them two ; since
in their separated state each was one. In this case, it is approxi-
mation or conjunction which is said to make the two: in another
case, the opposite cause, disjunction, is said also to make two—
‘when one body is bisected. How two opposite causes can pro-

νέσεως καὶ φθορᾶς τὴν αἰτίαν διαπ ‘with full confidence (Menon, pp. 97-

ατεύσασθαι. ἐνὼ οὖν σοὶ δίειμι, ἐὰν 98). See su chap. xi. p.

βούλῃ τά γ᾽ ἐκὰ πάθη, ἂς. 3 Plato, Phaedon, p. 96 καὶ ἔτι
1 Plato, P n, Ρ. 96 Β. ἐκ δὲ ye τούτων ¢ στερα, τὰ δέκα μοι

μνήμης καὶ δόξης, λαβούσης τὸ ἠρεμεῖν, ἐδόκει τῶν ὀκτὼ πλείονα εἶναι, διὰ τὸ

κατὰ ταῦτα γίγνεσθαι ἐπιστήμην. δύο αὐτοῖς προσεῖναι, καὶ 1d. δίπηχν τοῦ
This is the same distinction between πηχναίον μεῖζον εἶναι διὰ τὸ ἡμίσει αὑτοῦ

δόξα and ἐπι ἢ, a8 that which So- ὑπερέχειν.
μος gives in the Menon, though not! ¥lato, Phedon, p. 97 B.

Cuar,XXV. OPTIMISTIC PRINCIPLE OF EXPLANATION. 393

duce the same effect—and haw either conjunction or disjunction
can produce two, where there were not two before—I do not
understand. In fact, I could not explain to myself, by this
method of research, the generation, or destruction, or existence,
of any thing; and I looked out for some other method.

“Tt was at this time that I heard a man reading out of a book,
which he told me was the work of Anaxagoras, the gecong
affirmation that Nous (Reason, Intelligence) was the doctrine.
regulator and cause of all things. I felt great satis- raised by
faction in this cause; and I was convinced, that if ‘be,treatise
such were the fact, Reason would ordain every thing soras.
for the best: so that if I wanted to find out the cause of any
generation, or destruction, or existence, I had only to enquire in
what manner it was best that such generation or destruction
should take place. Thus a man was only required to know, both
respecting himself and respecting other things, what was the
best: which knowledge, however, implied that he must also
know what was worse—the knowledge of the one and of the
other going together.1 I thought I had thus found a master
quite to my taste, who would tell me, first whether the earth was
ἃ disk or a sphere, and would proceed to explain the cause and
the necessity why it must be so, by showing me how such
arrangement was the best: next, if he said that the earth was in
the centre, would proceed to show that it was best that the earth
should be in the centre. Respecting the Sun, Moon, and Stars,
I expected to hear the like explanation of their movements,
rotations, and other phenomena: that is, how it was better that
each should do and suffer exactly what the facts show. I never
imagined that Anaxagoras, while affirming that they were
regulated by Reason, would put upon them any other cause than
this—that it was best for them to be exactly as they are. 1
presumed that, when giving account of the cause, both of each
severally and all collectively, he would do it by setting forth
what was best for each severally and for all in common. Such

1 Plato, Phedon, p.'97 ΟἽ). «i οὖν λόγον τούτον οὐδὲν ἄλλο σκοπεῖν προσ-
τις βούλοιτο τὴν αἰτίαν εὑρεῖν περὶ ἥκειν ἀνθρώπῳ καὶ περὶ αὐτοῦ Kat
Υ περὶ τῶν ἄλλων, ἀλλ᾽ ἢ τὸ ἄριστον καὶ
dove, τοῦτο δεῖν περὶ αὐτοῦ εὑρεῖν, ὅπῃ τὸ τιστον" ἀναγκαῖον δὲ εἶναι τὸν
αὑτὸν τοῦτον καὶ τὸ χεῖρον εἰδέναι τὴν
ἰοῦν πάσχειν ἧ ποιεῖν" ἐκ δὲ δὴ τοῦ αὐτὴν γὰρ εἶναι ἐπιστήμην περὶ αὑτῶν.

394 PHADON. Cuap. XXV.

was my hope, and I would not have sold 1t for a large price.’ I
took up eagerly the book of Anaxagoras, and read it as quickly
as I could, that I might at once come to the knowledge of the
better and worse.

“Great indeed was my disappointment when, as I proceeded
with the perusal, I discovered that the author never

ment: mt employed Reason at all, nor assigned any causes cal-
‘Anaxagoras culated to regulate things generally : that the causes
did not . which he indicated were, air, ether, water, and many
the opti other strange agencies. The case seemed to me the
ciple into same as if any one, while announcing that Sokrates
detail. tion oct8 in all circumstances by reason, should next
between attempt to assign the causes of each of my proceedings
cient and severally :* Asif he affirmed, for example, that the
consos co- cause why I am now sitting here is, that my body is

composed of bones and ligamente—that my bones are
hard, and are held apart by commissures, and my ligaments such
as to contract and relax, clothing the bones along with the flesh
and the skin which keeps them together—that when the bones
are lifted up at their points of junction, the contraction and
relaxation of the ligaments makes me able to bend my limbe—
and that this is the reason why I am now seated here in my pre-
sent crumpled attitude: or again—as if, concerning the fact of
my present conversation with you, he were to point to other
causes of a like character—varieties of speech, air, and hearing,
with numerous other similar facts—omitting all the while to
notice the true causes, viz.,2—That inasmuch as the Athenians
have deemed it best to condemn me, for that reason I too have
deemed it best and most righteous to remain sitting here and to
undergo the sentence which they impose. For, by the Dog,
these bones and ligaments would have been long ago carried

1 Plato, Phedon, Ὁ. 98 B. καὶ οὐκ
ἂν ἀπεδόμην πολλοῦ τὰς ἐλπίδας, ἀλλὰ
πάνν σπουδῇ λαβὼν τὰς βίβλονς ὡς
τάχιστα οἷός τ᾿ ἦν ἀνεγίγνωσκον, ἵν᾽ ὡς
τάχιστα εἰδείην τὸ βέλτιστον καὶ τὸ

Ἧειῤρον.
x ὁ Plato, Phsedon, p. 98 C. καὶ pot
ἔδοξεν ὁμοιότατον πεπονθέναι ὥσπερ ἂν
εἴ τις λέγων ὅτι Σωκράτης πάντα ὅσα
πράττει νῷ πράττει, κἄπειτα ἐπιχειρήσας
λέγειν τὰς αἰτίας ἑκάστων ὧν πράττω,

ἔγοι πρῶτον μὲν ὅτι διὰ ταῦτα νῦν
δε κάθημαι, ὅτι ξύγκειταί μον τὸ
σῶμα ἐξ ὀστῶν καὶ Aer bers τὰ μὲν
ora ἐστι στερεὰ καὶ ε χωρὶς
an ἀλλήλων, &.. “xe
τὰς ὡς ἀληθῶς αἰτίας ν, ὅτι ἐπείδη
"᾿Αθηναίοις βέλτιον ε ὦ κατα-
Ψψηφίσασθαι, διὰ ταῦτα δὴ καὶ ἐμοὶ βέλ-
τιον αὖ δέδοκται ἐνθάδε καθῆσθαι, &c.

Crap. XXV. DISAPPOINTMENT WITH ANAXAGORAS. 395

away to Thebes or Megara, by my judgment of what is best—if I
had not deemed it more righteous and honourable to stay and
affront my imposed sentence, rather than to run away.. It is
altogether absurd to call such agencies by the name of causes.
Certainly, if a man affirms that unless I possessed such joints and
ligaments and other members as now belong to me, I should not
be able to execute what I have determined on, he will state no
more than the truth. But to say that these are the causes why
I, a rational agent, do what I am now doing, instead of saying
that I do it from my choice of what is best—this would be
great carelessness of speech : implying that a man cannot see the
distinction between that which is the cause in reality, and that
without which the cause can never be a cause.’ It is this last
which most men, groping as it were in the dark, call by a wrong
name, as if it were itself the cause. Thus one man affirms that
the earth is kept stationary in its place by the rotation of the
heaven around it: another contends that the air underneath
supports the earth, like a pedestal sustaining a broad kneading-
trough : but none of them ever look out for a force such as this
—That all these things now occupy that position which it is
best that they should occupy. These enquirers set no great
value upon this last-mentioned force, believing that they can
find some other Atlas stronger, more everlasting, and more
capable of holding all things together : they think that the Good
and the Becoming have no power of binding or holding together
any thing.

“Now, it is this sort of cause which I would gladly put myself
under any one’s teaching to learn. But I could Sokrates
neither find any teacher, nor make any way by my- could
self. Having failed in this quarter, I took the second trace out
best course, and struck into a new path in search of mistic prin-
causes? Fatigued with studying objects through my {ple for
eyes and perceptions of sense, I looked out for images find any

1 Plato, Phedon, p. 99 A. ἀλλ᾽ αἱρέσει, pies a Kal μακρὰ ῥᾳθυμία

. λόγον. γὰρ μὴ διελέσθαι

πον" εἰ δέ τις Sr ἄνεν τοῦ τὰ Sides a εἶναι, ὅτι aA μέν τί ἐστι τὸ

τοιαῦτα ἔχειν καὶ ὀστᾶ καὶ νεῦρα καὶ αἴτιον τῷ ὄντι, ἄλλο No δ᾽ ἐκεῖνο ae οὗ
ὅσα ἄλλα ἔχω, οὖκ ἂν οἷός τ᾽ ἣν ποιεῖν τὸ αἴτιον οὐκ ἂν ποτ᾽ εἴη αἴτιον

τὰ μοι, ἀληθῆ ἂν - ὡς ΞΡιδίο, Phedon, p. 99 Cb. ἐπειδὴ

διὰ ταῦτα words ἃ ποιῶ, ταύτῃ δὲ ταύτης ἐστερήθην, καὶ οὔτ᾽ αὑτὸς

νῷ πράττω, ἀλλ᾽ οὐ τῇ τοῦ βελτίστον od ρεῖν οὔτε wap ἄλλον μαθεῖν οἷός τε

"396 PHEDON. CHap. XXV.

teacher __ or reflections of them, and turned my attention to
renounced . words or discourses. This comparison is indeed not
it, and a altogether suitable: for Ido not admit that he who
third doo- ἢ investigates things through general words, has re-
cause" course to images, more than he who investigates sen-
sible facts : but such, at all events, was the turn which my mind
took. Laying down such general aseumption or hypothesis as I
considered to be the strongest, I accepted as truth whatever
squared with it, respecting cause as well as all other matters.
In this way I came upon the investigation of another sort of
cause.?

“Ἴ now assumed the separate and real existence of Ideas by
He now as. ‘uemeelves—The Good in itself or the Self-Good,
sumesthe Self-Beautiful, Great, and all such others. Look
existence What follows next upon this assumption. If any
ofideas, _ thing else be beautiful, besides the Self-Beautiful,
are the that other thing can only be beautiful because it
cavtinulas’ partakes of the Self-Beautiful: and the same with
objects regard to other similar Ideas. This is the only cause
certain that I can accept: I do not understand those other
ingenious causes which I hear mentioned.? When
any one tells me that a thing is beautiful because it has a showy
colour or figure, I pay no attention to him, but adhere simply to
my own affirmation, that nothing else causes it to be beautiful,
except the presence or participation of the Self-Beautiful. In
what way such participation may take place, I cannot positively
determine, But I feel confident in affirming that it does take
place : that things which are beautiful, become so by partaking
in the Self-Beautiful ; things which are great or little, by par-
taking in Greatness or Littleness. If I am told that one man is
taller than another by the head, and that this other is shorter
than the first by the very same (by the head), I should not admit
the proposition, but should repeat emphatically my own creed,—
That whatever is greater than another is greater by nothing else

νόμην τὸν δεύτερον πλοῦν ἐπὶ τὴν σκοπεῖν ἢ τὸν ἐν τοῖς ἔργοις.
ie airlas ζήτησιν ἢἶ πεπραγμάτενμαι, Plato, Phedon, ἐμ τὴ B. ὄρχομαε
βούλει σοὶ ἐπίδειξιν ποιΐῤσωμαι; ᾿ γὰρ ἐ τῆς

λ on, p. 90 E. ἴσως μὲν αἰτίας τὸ εἶδος ὃ πεπραγμάτενμαι, &c.
οὖν ᾧ εἶκι ω τρόπον τι τινὰ οὐκ ὅοικεν" 3 Plato, Phadon, p. 100 Ο. ov τοίνυν
ev δ πάνυ ἐνγχωρῶ τὸ ν ἐν τοῖς λόγοις ἔτι ,»μανθάνω, οὐδὲ δύναμαι ,ὰς ἄλλας
σκοπούμενον τὰ ὄντα ἐν εἰκόσι μᾶλλον αἰτίας τὰς σοφὰς ταύτας γιγνώσκειν.

a.
se,

Crap. XXV. IDEAS ARZ THE ONLY CAUSES. 397

except by Greatness-and through Greatness—whatever is less -
than another is less only by Littleness and through Littleness.
For I should fear to be entangled in a contradiction, if I affirmed
that the greater man was greater and the lesser man less by the
head—First, in saying that the greater was greater and that the °
lesser was less, by the very same—Next, in saying that the
greater man was greater by the head, which is itself small : it
being absurd to maintain that a man is great by something
small! Again, I should not say that ten is more than eight by
two, and that this was the cause of its excess ;* my doctrine is,
that ten is more than eight by Multitude and through Multitude:
so the rod of two cubits is greater than that of one, not by half,
but by Greatness. Again, when One is placed alongside of One,
—or when one is bisected—lI should take care not to affirm, that
in the first case the juxtaposition, in the last case the bisection,
was the cause why it became two.? I proclaim loudly that I
know no other cause for its becoming two except participation in
the essence of the Dyad. What is to become two, must partake
of the Dyad : what is to become one, of the Monad. I leave to
wiser men than me these juxtapositions and bisections and other
such refinements: I remain entrenched within the safe ground
of my own assumption or hypothesis (the reality of these intel-
legible and eternal Ideas). |

“Suppose however that any one impugned this hypothesis
itself? Ishould make no reply to him until I had Procedure
followed out fully the consequences of it: in order of Sokrates
to ascertain whether they were consistent with, or thesis were
contradictory to, each other. I should, when the He insists
proper time came, defend the hypothesis by iteelf, iuapert
assuming some other hypothesis yet more universal, the discus-

1 Plato, Phedon, p. 101 A. φοβού- myxvaiou ἡμίσει μεῖζον εἶναι, ἀλλ᾽ ov
μενος μὲ τίς σοι ἐναντίος λόγος ἀπαν- μεγέθει; .

oy, ἐὰν τῇ κεφαλῇ μείζονά τινα O95 53 Plato, Phsedon, p. 101 B-C. τί δέ;
εἶναι καὶ ἐλάττω, πρῶτον μὲν τῷ αὐτῷ 4; ἁνὸς προστεθέντος, τὴν πρόσθεσιν
τὸ μεῖζον μεῖζον εἶναι καὶ τὸ ἔλαττον τίν εἶναι τοῦ δύο γενέσθαι, ἢ διασχισ-

Troy, ἔπειτα κεφαλῇ σμικρᾷ οὐσῃ θέντος τὴν σχίσιν, οὐκ evAaBoto ἂν λέγειν,
τὸν μεί ieee advan τινὰ δὴ τέρας καὶ μέγα ἂν βοῴης ὅτι οὐκ οἶσθα ἄλλως

2 Pisto, Phedon, Ὁ. 10] Β. Οὔκουν Jus ἕκαστον γιγγόμενον ἢ ξετοῦχι» τὴς
τὰ δέκα τῶν ὀκτὼ ὄνοιν πλείω εἶναι, καὶ καὶ ἐν τούτοις οὐκ ἔχρις ἄλλην τινὰ
8 ee αἰτίαν etre: αἰτίαν τοῦ δύο γενέσθαι ἀλλ᾽ ἢ τὴν τῆς
pes πλῆθος 3 gai τὸ δίπηχν τοῦ δνάδος per ἀσχέσιν, &.

398 PHADON. _ Cuap. XXV.

sion ofthe such as appeared to me best, until I came to some
and the thing fully sufficient. But I would not permit my-
discussion self to confound together the discussion of the hypo-
sequences. thesis itself, and the discussion of its consequences,
This is a method which cannot lead to truth : though it is much
practised by litigious disputants, who care little about truth, and
pride themselves upon their ingenuity when they throw all
things into confusion.’

The exposition here given by Sokrates of successive intellectual

tion tentatives (whether of Sokrates or Plato, or partly one,
of Sokrates partly the other), and the reasoning embodied therein,
by the is represented as welcomed with emphatic assent and
hearers, approbation by all his fellow-dialogista? It deserves
upon it. attention on many grounds. It illustrates instruc-
tively some of the speculative points of view, and speculative
transitions, suggesting themselves to an inquisitive intellect of
that day.

If we are to take that which precedes as a description of
The hilo. the philosophical changes of Plato himeelf, it differs
materially from Aristotle: for no allusion is here
changes in made to the intercourse of Plato with Kratylus and
tamed upon other advocates of the doctrines of Herakleitns
viewsastoa which intercourse is mentioned by Aristotle ὅ
true cause. having greatly influenced the early speculations of
Plato. Sokrates describes three different phases of his (or
Plato’s) speculative point of view: all turning upon different
conceptions of what constituted a true Cause. His first belief on
the subject was, that which he entertained before he entered on
physical and physiological investigations. It seemed natural to
him that eating and drinking should be the cause why a young
man grew taller : new bone and new flesh was added out of the
food. So again, when a tall man appeared standing near to a
short man, the former was tall by the head, or because of the
head ; ten were more than eight, because two were added on:

1 Plato, Phadon, p. 101 EB. ἐπειδὴ ἐκείνης ὡρμημένων, εἴπερ βούλοιό τι τῶν
δὲ ἐκείνης αὐτῆς (τῆς ὑποθέσεως) δέοι ὄντων εὑρεῖν.

σε διδόναι ν, ὡσαύτως ἂν διδοίη, 4
ἄλλην ad ὑ cow ὑποθέμενος, ἥτις τῇ κα probation is poctlinsly signifies τὰ
ἄνωθεν βελτίστη φαίνοιτο - . . . ἅμα ths intervention of Echekrates.

οὐκ ἂν ὕροιο, ὥσπερ οἱ ἀντιλογικοΐ, περί

τε τῆς ἀρχῆς διαλεγόμενος καὶ τῶν ἐξ δ. Aristotel. Metaphys. A. 987, a. 89.

Cap. XXV. WHAT IS A TRUE CAUSE? 399

the measure of two cubits was greater than that of one cubit,
because it stretched beyond by one half. When one object was
added on to another, the addition was the cause why they became
two : when one object was bisected, this bisection was the cause
why the one became two.

This was his first conception of a true Cause, which for the
time thoroughly satisfied him. But when he came to investigate
physiology, he could not follow out the same conception of
Cause, so as to apply it to more novel and complicated probleme;
and he became dissatisfied with it altogether, even in regard to
questions on which he had before been convinced. New diffi-
culties suggested themselves to him. How can the two objects,
which when separate were each one, be made fwo, by the fact
that they are brought together? What alteration has happened
in their nature? Then again, how can the very same fact, the
change from one to two, be produced by two causes perfectly
contrary to each other—in the first case, by juxtaposition—in the
last case, by bisection 31

That which is interesting here to note, is the sort of Cause
which first gave satisfaction to the speculative mind problems
of Sokrates. In the instance of the growing youth, 85 diffi.
he notes two distinct facts, the earliest of which is which So-
‘(assuming certain other facts as accompanying condi- sought
tions) the cause of the latest. But in most of the solution.
other instances, the fact is one which does not admit of explana-
tion. Comparisons of eight men with ten men, of a yard with
half a yard, of ἃ tall man with a short man, are mental appre-
ciations, beliefs, affirmations, not capable of being farther ex-
plained or accounted for: if any one disputes your affirmation,
you prove it to him, by placing him in a situation to make the
comparison for himself, or to go through the computation which
establishes the truth of what you affirm. It is not the juxtaposi-
tion of eight men which makes them to be eight (they were so just
as much when separated by ever so wide an interval) : though it
may dispose or enable the spectator to count them as eight. We
may count the yard measure (whether actually bisected or not),
either as one yard, or as two half yards, or as three feet, or thirty-

. 1S8extus Empiricus embodies this which he starts against the Dogmatists,
argumentof Plato among the difficulties adv. Mathematicos, x. 8. 802-308.

400 PHADON. Cap. XXV..

six inches. Whether it be one, or two, or three, depends upon
the substantive which we choose to attach to the numeral, or
upon the comparison which we make (the unit which we select)
on the particular occasion.

With this description of Cause Sokrates grew dissatisfied when
Expecta- he extended his enquiries into physical and physiolo-
tions enter- gical problems. Is it the blood, or air, or fire, whereby
tained by we think? and such like questions. Such enquiries
from the —into the physical conditions uf mental phenomena
Anaxagoras. —did really admit of some answer, affirmative, or
His disap’ - negative. But Sokrates does not tell us how he pro-

distinc- ceeded in seeking for an answer: he only says that
causesand he failed so completely, as even to be disabused of his
co-efficients. snpposed antecedent knowledge. He was in this per-
plexity when he first heard of the doctrine of Anaxagoras.
‘“‘ Nous or Reason is the regulator and the cause of all things.”
Sokrates interpreted this to mean (what it does not appear that
Anaxagoras intended to assert)! that the Kosmos was an animal
or person* having mind or Reason analogous to his own: that
this Reason was an agent invested with full power and per-
petually operative, so as to regulate in the best manner all the
phenomena of the Kosmos; and that the general cause to be
assigned for every thing was one and the same—“ It is best
thus”; requiring that in each particular case you should show
how it was for the best. Sokrates took the type of Reason from
his own volition and movements; supposing that all the agencies
in the Kosmos were stimulated or checked by cosmical Reason
for her purposes, as he himself put in motion his own bodily
_members. This conception of Cause, borrowed from the analogy
of his own rational volition, appeared to Sokrates very captivat-
ing, though it had not been his own first conception. But he
found that Anaxagoras, though proclaiming the doctrine as a
principium or initiatory influence, did not make applications of
it in detail; but assigned as causes, in most of the particular
cases, those agencies which Sokrates considered to be subordinate
and instrumental, as his own muscles were to his own volition.

11 have given (in chap. i. p. 48 seq.) ὁ
an abridgmen explanation of "2 Plate ‘Timaus, p. 80 Ὁ. τόνδε τὸν
what seems to have “been the doctrine κόσμον, ξώον ἔμψυχον ἔννουν τε, ἄϊα.

Cuap. XXV. PHYSICAL EXPLANATIONS ODIOUS. 401

Sokrates will not allow suth agencies to be called Causes: he
says that they are only co-efficients indispensable to the efficacy
of the single and exclusive Cause—Reason. But he tells us him-
self that most enquirers considered them as Causes ; and that
Anaxagoras himself produced them as such. Moreover we shall
see Plato himself in the Timzus, while he repeats this same dis-
tinction between Causes Efficient and Causes Co-efficient—yet
treats these latter as Causes also, though inferior in regularity
and precision to the Demiurgic Nous.’

In truth, the complaint which Sokrates here raises against
Anaxagoras—that he assigned celestial Rotation as
the cause of phenomena, in place of a quasi-human imputes to
Reason—is just the same as that which Aristophanes {2°%9s0r8
in the Clouds advances against Sokrates himself.? of substitut-
The comic poet accuses Sokrates of displacing Zeus to agencies in
make room for Dinos or Rotation. According to the 2)2¢2.0f
popular religious belief, all or most of the agencies in This is the
Nature were personified, or supposed to be carried on Aristo-
by persons—Gods, Goddesses, Demons, Nymphs, &c., phanes and
which army of independent agents were conceived, uted to So-
by some thinkers, as more or less systematised and

1 Plato, Timsous, p. 46 C-D. airca— Δῖνος βασιλεύει, τὸν Ai” ἐξεληλακώς.
ξυναίτια---ξυμμεταίτια, He says that we @ find Proklus same

He ogical d

as such (Timeus, p. 68 E He there . dulged too much in b cal reason-

distinguishes the Ene an ἔυναίτια as ings”—rev μὲν θεδλογικῶν ἀρχῶν
two different sorts of αἴτισ, the divine ἀφιστάμενος, τοῖς δὲ φυσικοῖς ἐρνάγας

and the , in a remarkable πέρα τοῦ δέοντος ἀδιαν
passage: where tells us that we ad Timseum, Ἦ. Στ, Selneider)

t to here, be tells us that we Pascal alee Ἐς the like dis-
a view to the ha ess of life,as faras pleasure the Cartesian theory
our nature ta—and the necessary of the vor ces. Descartes i
causes for sake of the divine : δὴ God as ha originally established
that we cannot in any wa gi ot the divine rotatory motion among | the atoms,
or understand, or sight of Heine together with an unvarying
causes bout the uantity of motion: mee two
cates alone with thom (609A). "πῇ ted, Descartes co iered

Timeus, pp. 47-48, we find that all cosmical facts and phenomena
Site mie might be deduced from them. ἀν

ραν la philosophie de Descartes,

remark- étai de son sentiment sur

ecessity is described as Pautomate ; et n’en était point sar la

ering or irregular descrip- mati¢re subtile, dont il se moquait fort.

tion of Cause”—rd τῆς πλανωμένης Mais Π ne pouvait souffrir sa sa maniére

εἶδος αἰτίας. Eros and ᾿Ανάγκη are dexpliquer la formation de toutes

joined as g—in Symposion, choses; et il disait tris souvent,—Je ne

pp. 195 O, 197 pardonner ἃ Descartes: il voudrait

2 Aristophan. Nubes, 879-815. bien, dans toute sa philosophie, pouvoir

2—26

402 PHEDON. CuHap. XXV.

consolidated under the central authority of the Kosmos itself.
The causes of natural phenomena, especially of the grand and
terrible phenomena, were supposed agents, conceived: after the
model of man, and assumed to be endowed with volition, force,
affections, antipathies, ὥς. : some of them visible, such as Helios,
Seléné, the Stars; others generally invisible, though showing
themselves whenever it specially pleased them. Sokrates, as we
see by the Platonic Apology, was believed by his countrymen to
deny these animated agencies, and to substitute instead of them
inanimate forces, not put in motion by the quasi-human attributes
of reason, feeling and volition. The Sokrates in the Platonic
Phzedon, taken at this second stage of his speculative wanderings,
not only disclaims such a doctrine, but protests against it. He
recognises no cause except a Nous or Reason borrowed by analogy.
from that of which he was conscious within himself, choosing
what was best for himself in every special situation.? He tells

r de Dieu: mais fl n’a pu s’em- gone on in the same track, and still,
er de lui accorder une chiquenaude farther.

think,
pour mettre le monde en mouvement: Lord Monboddo speaks with still
cela, il n’a que faire de Dieu.” greater ty about the Cartesian
Pensées, xi. p. 287, edition tO, ing a remark on it similar
e Louandre, citation from Mademoi- to w has

selle Périer, Paris, 1864 1864.) Pascal. (See his Dissertation on the
Lord Monboddo, in his Ancient Newtonian Philosophy, Appendix to

Again,
Metaphysics (bk. if ch. Ῥ. 278), οἵ cites Ancient Metaphysics, pp. 498-499.)
those remarks of Plato and Arist, 1 Plato, Timssus, Ὁ. 41 A. πάντες
the deficiencies Ot Ane , ae. ex: ὅσοι τε περιπολοῦσι φανερῶς καὶ ὅσοι
resses the like censure against φαίνονται καθ ὅσον ἂν ἐθέλωσι θεοὶ, &e.
he cosmical theories of Newton --- What Sokrates understands by the

“Sir Isaac puts me in mind of an thoory of Anazagera, i evident from

ancient philosopher Anaxagoras, who his . 98-99. He
maintained, as. Sir Isaac does, that a ert. ca tad indwe

when he came to explain the cular ch ,in each co
phenomena of nature, es inetead of baring what wes best nimticlarcon just as
recourse to mind, emplo his own (Sokrates) Reason deliberated
sothers, subtle spirite a1 and nd iui, and I and chose what was best for him (τῇ τοῦ
ence

know not what thing βελτέστον αἱρέσει
rather than min mn cause eens Pics he vous γγ δια

admitted to exist fn the universe; but nians to condemn and punish

rather than employ it, h had recourse to This point deserves attention, be-
causes, of the existence of cause it is altogether different from

which he could give no proof. The Aristotle’s conception of Nous or Rea-

Tragic poets of of, jrhen they could son in the Kosmos: in which he recog-
not otherwise untie th ot of their nises no consciousness, no deliberation,
fable, brought down a god ina machine, no choice, no reference to any special
who solv all difficulties : ‘anne εἰς situation: but a constant, i instinctive,
philosophers as Anaxagoras not, undeliberating, movem towards
even when they cannot do better, Good as a determining Ἐπά--- 6. to-
employ mind or divinity. Our philo- qards the reproduction and perpetua-

hess, since Sir tion of regular Forms.

CuHaP. XXV.

SOKRATES AT FAULT WITH OPTIMISM.

403

us however that most of the contemporary philosophers dissented

from this point of view.

To them, such inanimate agencies were

the sole and real causes, in one or other ef which they found
what they thought a satisfactory explanation.
It is however singular, that Sokrates, after he has extolled

Anaxagoras for enunciating a grand general cause,
and has blamed him only for not making application
of it in detail, proceeds to state that neither he him- 4
self, nor any one else within his knowledge, could find
the way of applying it, any more than Anaxagoras

The 1 Sup-

Peeory of
Anaxa-
goras can.
not be car-
ried out,
either by

had done. If Anaxagoras had failed, no one else gokrates

could do better.

ar given ve ctive re-
marks, in the spirit 0 the Aristotelian
both upon the principle an-

nounced by oras, and upon the
manner in which oras is criti-
cised by Sokrates in the Platonic Phx-
don. Hegel observes :—

** Along with this principle (that of
Anaxagoras) there comes in the recog-
nition of an Intelligence, or of a
fetermining agen ency— which was want.
imagine terein we are not to

t, subjectively consi-

oeapt dered when thonght spoken of, we
oe rev ought as it passes
in our consciousness: but here, on the

contrary, what is meant is, the
considered altogether objectively, or

.Β. 8 Fetclectum, or “ΩΣ
mtellectio, or Cogitatto, which would
mean the conscious . this

a Bd, 90 not. 2): as we say, that there
is reason in the world,—or as we speak
of Genera in nature, which are the
Universal. The Genus Animal

immanent
formed from without, as men construct

The facts before Sokrates could not
be reconciled, by any way that he could devise, with
his assumed principle of rational directing force, or
constant optimistic purpose, inherent in the Kosmos.
Accordingly he abandoned this track, and entered th
upon another : seeking a different sort of cause (τῆς

Idea, Subject. Ne evertheless

himself, or
any oneelse.
Sokrates

fatelligently, but by an. Intelligence
, but by an
extraneous to this wooden material.
It is this extraneous form which we
are apt to think of as representing In-
telligence, when we hear it talked of:
but what is really meant is, the Uni-
versal—the immanent nature of the
object itself. The Νοῦς is not a think-
ing Being without, which has a ed
the world: by such an interpretation
the Idea of Anaxagoras would be quite
perverted and deprived of all philoso-
Phical value. For to suppose an indi-
vidual particular, , Some without,
to descend into the region of phan-
tanna and its dualism: what is called,
Being, is not an Idea, but a
what is really
niversal 1 ts not for that
: its characteristic pro-
μα; τρασοα aus Universal, is to determine in
itaelt, by iteelf, and for itself, the par-
ticular accompaniments. While it car-
- les on this process of εἰ 6, it main-
tains iteelf at the same e as the
Universal, always the same ; this is a
portion of its self-determining effi-
ciency.”—What Hegel here adverts to
seems identical with that which Dr.

and ἰ

the Henry More calls an Emanative Cause

ortality of the Soul, ch. vi. p. 18
(imm ty of the a poaibie Ax »

**the notion of a
Emanative Effect is co-existent with

the very substance of that which is

404 PHEDON. ‘ Cmap. XXV.

αἰτίας τὸ εἶδος), not by contemplation of things, but by proposi-
tions and ratiocinative discourse. He now assumed asa principle
an universal axiom or proposition, from which he proceeds to
deduce consequences. The principle thus laid down is, That
there exist substantial Ideas—universal Entia. Each of these
Ideas communicates or imparts its own nature to the particulars
which bear the same name: and such communion or participation
is the cause why they are what they are. The cause why various
objects are beautiful or great, is, because they partake of the Self-
Beautiful or the Self-Great: the cause why they are two or three
is, because they partake of the Dyad or the Triad.

Here then we have a third stage or variety of belief, in the
Vague and speculative mind of Sokrates, respecting Causes. The
dissentient self-existent Ideas (“propria Platonis supellex,” to.
Attachet to use the words of Seneca!) are postulated as Causes :
the word ς and in this belief Sokrates at last finds satisfaction.
isacause,to But these Causative Ideas, or Ideal Causes, though
which gives Satisfactory to Plato, were accepted by scarcely any
satisfaction one else. They were transformed—seemingly even
guisitive by Plato himself before his death, into Ideal Num-
celings. bers, products of the One implicated with Great and
Little or the undefined Dyad—and still farther transformed by

said to be the Cause thereof. That ce n’est point la difficulté ;
which emanes, if I may so speak, is et que, quittant préoccupations et
the same in reality with its Emanative les usions de mes sens, j’aurais tort

use une forme abstraite, et d’
Res ing the criticism of Sokrates embrasser un fantéme logique pour
upon RAXAOrAS, Hegel has further la cause que jecherche. Je veux
acute remarks which are too long to que j’aurois tort de concgevoir, comme
cite {p. 368 seq.) quelque chose de réel et de
1 Seneca, Epistol. Vidéo vague de nature et d’ casence,
About this di tion, manifested qui prendre que ce que I’on sait:
by many philosophers, and in a - de ainsi une torme abstraite

cular manner by Plato, to “embrace et univ comme une cause pby-
logi phantoms as real causes,” I sique d’un effet trés réel. Car il y a
transcri & good passage from Male- deux choses dont je ne sauraia trop
branche. défier. La premitre est, l'impreasion
“26 me sens encore extrémement de mes sens: et l'autre est, la facilité
porté ἃ dire que cette colonne est dure que j’ai de prendre les natures ab-
r sa nature; ou bien que les petits stra
iens dont sont composés les corps pour celles qui sont réelles et par-
durs, sont des atémes, dont les parties ticulitres: et ἢ me souviens
ne se peuvent diviser, comme étant les d’avoir ὀΐό plusieurs fois aséduit
parties cssentieles et dernitres des corps ces deux principes d'erreur.”
—et qui sont essentiellement crochues ou (Malebranche — Recherche de ila
branchues. ; ité, vol iii., liv. vi., ch. 8, p. 245,
“‘Maisjereconnois franchement,que ed. 1772.)

Crap. XXV. NO COMMON IDEA OF A CAUSE. 405

his successors Speusippus and Xenokrates: they were impugned
in every way, and emphatically rejected, by Aristotle.

The foregoing picture given by Sokrates of the wanderings of
his mind (rds ἐμὰς πλάνας) in search of Causes, is interesting, not
only in reference to the Platonic age, but also to the process of
speculation generally. Almost every one talks of a Cause as a
word of the clearest meaning, familiar and understood by all
hearers. There are many who represent the Idea of Cause as
simple, intuitive, self-originated, universal ; one and the same
in all minds. These philosophers consider the maxim—that
every phenomenon must have a Cause—as self-evident, known
@ priort apart from experience : as something which no one can
help believing as soon as it is stated to him.!' The gropings of
Sokrates are among the numerous facts which go to refute such a
theory : or at least to show in what sense alone it can be partially
admitted. There is no fixed, positive, universal Idea, corre-
sponding to the word Cause. There is a wide divergence, as to
the question what a Cause really is, between different ages of the
same man (exemplified in the case of Sokrates): much more
between different philosophers at one time and another. Plato
complains of Anaxagoras and other philosophers for assigning as
Causes that which did not truly deserve the name: Aristotle also
blames the defective conceptions of his predecessors (Plato in-
cluded) on the same subject. If there be an intuitive idea corre-
sponding to the word Cause, it must be a different intuition in

1 Dugald Stewart, Elem. os
Hum. Mind, vol. i. ch. 1, sect. 2, p
98-99, ed. Hamilton, aise’ note’e sane
volume.

1, Several modern phil osophers (espe-
e Intell. Powers) p
to illustrate that
ref change were in the

er ev © we perceive Θ
uni : to the operation of an effi-
cient cause. This reference is not the
result of reasoning, but necessarily

impressed with a belief of the existence
of a sentient being. Hence 1 I conceive

it is that when we see two events con-

stantly conjoined, we are led toassociate
the idea of causation or efficiency with
the former, to refer to it that power

or en r gmoney by ch the Θ

: in comsseruenee of which
Proecieion we come to consider philo-
sophy as the knowledge of cient
causes, and lose sight of the operation
of mind in producing ‘the phenomena
of nature. It is by an assdciation
somewhat similar that we connect our
sensations of colour with the primary
qualities of body. A moments reflec-
tion must satisfy any one that the

ch sensation of colour can only reside in a

mind. . the same way we are led

to associate with inanimate matter | the
ideas of power, force energy, causa

which ate all ‘attribu of mind, nr
can exist in a mind omy.”

406

Plato and Aristotle—in Plato himself at one age and at another
age : in other philosophers, different from both and from each
other. The word is equivocal—wodAayés λεγόμενον, in Aristo-
telian phrase—men use it familiarly, but vary much in the thing
signified. That is a Cause, to each man, which gives satisfaction
to the inquisitive feelings—curiosity, anxious perplexity, specu-
lative embarrassment of his own mind. Now doubtless these
inquisitive feelings are natural and widespread : they are emo-
tions of our nature, which men seek (in some cases) to appease
by some satisfactory hypothesis. That answer which affords
satisfaction, looked at in one of its aspects, is called Cause ; Be-
ginning or Principle—Element—represent other aspects of the
same Queesitum :—
“Felix, qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas,
Atque metus omnes et inexorabile Fatum
Sabjecit pedibus strepitamque Acherontis avari,”
is the exclamation of that sentiment of wonder and uneasiness
out of which, according to Plato and Aristotle, philosophy
springs! But though the appetite or craving is common, in
greater or less degree, to most persons—the nourishment cal-
culated to allay it is by no means the same to all. Good (says
Aristotle) is that which all men desire:? but all men do not
agree in their judgment, what Good is. The point of commu-
nion between mankind is here emotional rather than intellectual :
in the painful feeling of difficulty to be solved, not in the
manner of conceiving what the difficulty is, nor in the direction
where solution is to be sought, nor in the solution itself when
3

PHADON. CHap. XXV.

1 Virgil, Georg. ii. 490-02. Compare λαβεῖν ἱκανῶς τί wor’ ἐστίν, &.
Lacretius, vi. 50-65, and the letter of Seneca, 118. ime ἐς Bonum est,
to Herodotus, p. 25, ed. quod ad se mpetum animi secundum
Plato, Thestét. Ὁ. 155 D. naturam mov
φιλοσόφον τοῦτο τὸ πάθος, δ Aristotle recognises the different
τὸ θαυμάζειν. οὐ ἀρχὴ ἄλλη φιλο- which prooset themoalves to blems
σοφίας, 4 αὕτη ---- etap! ys. present themsel specu-
A. p. 982, Ὁ. 10-20. διὰ γὰρ τὸ θαυμάζειν lative mind : | mind : he i back upon the

οἱ ἄνθρωποι καὶ νῦν καὶ τὸ πρῶτον

καλῶς a τἀγαθόν, οὗ πάντ
ἐφίενται. ato, 1 _Bepabl. vi. p. 508 605 E.
Ὁ δὴ διώκει μὲν ἁπᾶσα ψυχὴ καὶ τούτον

ἕνεκα
τι εἶναι, ἀποροῦσα δὲ καὶ οὐκ ἔχονσα

i ontiquated an and even is predocesors

N. 1089, ἃ. 2. Πολλὰ μὲν ody. ace
τῆς ἐπὶ ταῦτας τὰ τὰς αἰτίας ἐκτροτῆς
μάλιστα σαι

which Alexander of rhe

Porn ἀρ ἀρχαϊκῶς καὶ ὃ εὐηθῶς, m-

LT ret, ἀπομαντενομένη pare A

in anotiier passage of the same book,

CuHap. XXV. MEN AGRBE IN SEARCHING ONLY.

407

When Sokrates here tellg us that as a young man he felt
anxious curiosity to know what the cause of every
phenomenon was, it is plain that at this time he did
not know what he was looking for: that he pro-
ceeded only by successive steps of trial, doubt, dis-
covered error, rejection: and that each trial was
adapted to the then existing state of his own mind.
The views of Anaxagoras he affirms to have presented
themselves to him as a new revelation: he then came
to believe that the only true Cause was, a cosmical
reason and volition like to that of which he was conscious in
himself. Yet he farther tells us, that others did not admit this
Cause, but found other causes to satisfy them: that even Anaxa-
goras did not follow out his own general conception, but recog-
nised Causes quite unconnected with it: lastly, that neither
could he (Sokrates) trace out the conception for himself.1 He
was driven to renounce it, and to turn to another sort of Cause—
the hypothesis of self-existent Ideas, in which he then acquiesced.
And this last hypothesis, again, was ultimately much modified
in the mind of Plato himself, as we know from Aristotle. All
this shows that the Idea of Cause—far from being one and the
same to all, like the feeling of uneasiness which prompts the
search for it—is complicated, diverse, relative, and modifiable.

The last among the various revolutions which Sokrates
represents himself to have undergone—the transition
from designing and volitional agency of the Kosmos
conceived as an animated system, to the sovereignty
of universal Ideas—is analogous to that transition Sbont cam
which Auguste Comte considers to be the natural causes

Dissension .

Different
notions of
Plato and
Aristotle

Aristotle notes and characterises the
emotion experienced by the mind in

ing what is regarded as truth—
Phe mental satisfaction obtained when
ἃ difficulty is solved, 1090, a. 88. Οἱ

stated by Adam Smith, ‘ History of
Astronomy,’ sect. ii. and fii

1 The view of which Sokrates
here declares himself to renounce from
inability to pursue it, is substantially

δὲ χωριστὸν ποιοῦντες (τὸν ἀριθμόν), the same as what he lays down in the
ὅτε ἐπὶ τῶν αἰσθητῶν οὐκ ἔσται τὰ Philébus, pp. 23 Ὁ, 27 A, 80 E.
ἀξιώματα, ἀληθὴ δὲ τὰ να καὶ In the Timeus Plato to
σαίνει τὴν ψυχήν, εἶναί τε ὑπολαμ- Timseus the task (to which Sokrates
βάνονσι καὶ χωριστὰ εἶναι" ὁμοίως δὲ in the Phadon conf himself
τὰ τὰ ἡματικά. incompetent) of {0110 into detail
The subjective origin of p phy the schemes and p of

—the feelings which Pigoues to the

theorising process, '
hypotheses and analogies—are well

also assumes the εἴδη or Ideas as
co-ordinate and essential conditions.

PHEZDON. CHaPp. XXV.

regularand progress of the human mind: to explain phenomena
Inductive at first by reference to some personal agency, and to
theor, ion, pass from this mode of explanation to that by meta-
fn modera physical abstractions. It is true that these are two

distinct modes of conceiving Causation ; and that in
each of them the human mind, under different states of social
and individual instruction, finds satisfaction. But each of the
two theories admits of much diversity in the mode of conception.
Plato seems to have first given prominence to these metaphysical

causes; and Aristotle in this respect follows his example: though
he greatly censures the incomplete and erroneous theories of
Plato. It is remarkable that both these two philosophers recog-
nised Causes irregular and unpredictable, as well as Causes
regular and predictable. Neither of them included even the
idea of regularity, as an essential part of the meaning of
Cause.! Lastly, there has been elaborated in modern times,
owing to the great extension of inductive science, another theory
of Causation, in which unconditional regularity is the essential
constituent : recognising no true Causes except the phenomenal
causes certified by experience, as interpreted inductively and
deductively—the assemblage of phenomenal antecedents, uniform
and unconditional, so far as they can be discovered and verified.

1 Monboddo, | Ancient Metaphysics,
B. 1. ch. iv. p. 82. “‘ Plato appears to
e first poles the Ionic School

causes into
natural philosoph}. ον τ θαυ he called
Ideas, and made @ principles of all
d the reason why he insists
80 δας un upon this of cause, and
#0 little = apon | the other three, is given
us by Aristotle in the end of pis first
book of Metaphysics, viz.,
studied mathematics too muc
instead of bee them as the han:
Ὁ osophy, made them
itedlf. . Plato, b however,
don 88; 8 & good deal about final causes;
butin the system of natural philosophy
which is in the Timzus, he says very
little of it.”

that jhe

ratic or Causation—7 wAave-
μένη αἰτία. Aristotle ises Airia
among the 8 uivocal words πολλαχῶς

va; he enumerates Τύχη and

Au nearer irregular causes or causes

ay ie

accident—amo. them (Physic.
195-198; M a ἧς 1065, 3)

set out the different varieties ἘΣ Cause;
guishing y-four acco

Plato, and orty eight, acco

Aristotle.

ersy raised

against Plato, about Causes and the
speculations thereupon.

Anenumeration, though very incom-
plete, , of the different meanings ed

the word Cause, may be seen in
fessor Fleming’s Vocabulary of Phi-
losophy.

* CAUSE,” AN EQUIVOCAL WORD. 409

Crap. XXV.

Certain it is that these are the only causes obtainable by induc-
tion and experience: though many persons are not satisfied
without looking elsewhere for transcendental or ontological
causes οὗ a totally different nature. All these theories imply—
what Sokrates announces in the passage just cited—the deep-
seated influence of speculative curiosity, or the thirst for finding
the Why of things and events, as a feeling of the human mind :
but all of them indicate the discrepant answers with which, in
different enquirers, this feeling is satisfied, though under the
same equivocal name Cause. And it would have been a pro-
ceeding worthy of Plato’s dialectic, if he had applied to the word
Cause the same cross-examining analysis which we have seen
him applying to the equally familiar words —Virtue—Courage—
Temperance—Friendship, &c. “First, let us settle what a Cause
really is: then, and not till then, can we succeed in ulterior

enquiries respecting it.” !

1 See Sir William Hamilton, Discus- minable—icoy μὲν οὖν ἐπὶ rots: λεγο-
sions on Philosophy, Appendix, Ῥ. μένοις ὑπὸ τῶν δογματικῶν, οὐδ᾽ dy
δ86.{Ἡ. The debates about what was ἐννοῆσαί τις τὸ αἴτιον δύναιτο, εἴ γε πρὸς
meant in philosophy by the word τῇ διαφώνους καὶ ἀλλοκότους (ἀποδι-
Cause are certainly older than Plato. δόναι ί

) ἐννοίας τοῦ αἰτίον ὅτι καὶ τὴν
We read that it was discussed among
the philosophers who frequented the
house of Perikles; and that that
eminent statesman was ridiculed by
his dissolute son Xanthippus for tak-
ing rt in such useless refinements
( utarch, Perikles, c. 36). But the
latonic dialogues are the oldest com-
positions in which any attempts to
analyse the meaning of the word are
preserved to us.
Δίτιαι, “Apyai, Στοιχεῖα (Aristot.
Metapb. a) were the main objecte of
with the ancient speculative
philosophers. While all of them set
themselves the same problem, each
of them hit upon a different solution.
That which gave mental satisfaction
one, ap: unsatisfactory an
even iindeteaibio to the rest. The
first book of Aristotle's Metaphysica
gives an instructive view of dis-

crepancy. His own analysis of Cause

come before us hereafter. Com- p

pare the long discussions on the subject
Sextus Empiricus, Pyrrhon. Hypo.
iii, 13-30; and adv. Mathemat.
195-250. Ἃ

great among dogmatical 080-
phers, that he pronounces the reality

of the causal sequence to be indeter-

The discrepancy was so
e hil

ὑπόστασιν αὑτοῦ πεποιήκασιν ἀνεύρετον

διὰ τὴν περὶ αὑτὸ διαφωνίαν. Seneca
(Epist. 65) blends together the Platonic
and the Aristotelian views, when he

ascribes to Plato a quintuple variety
of Causa.

The quadruple variety of Causation
established by Aristotle governed the
speculations o osophers during the
middle ages. Bat since the decline of
the Aristotelian philosophy, there are
few subjects which have been more
keenly debated among metaphysicians
than the vere Conse. Tt is one of

6 princi vergence
among the different schools of philo-
sophy now existing. A volume, and a
very. tructive vo , might be filled
with the enumeration and contrast of
the different theories on the subject.
Upon the view which a man takes on

point will depend mainly the
or purpose which he sets before

osophy. Many seek the solution
blem in transcenden

, extra-phenomenal causes.

from and above the world
d and
Stewart, while ackno the
existence of such causes as the true
efficient causes, consider them as being

of the
ontologi

410

PHADON.

Cuap. XXV.

There is yet another point which deserves attention in this

Last transi-
tion of the

mind of 8o-
krates from

history given by Sokrates of the transitions of his
own mind. His last transition is represented as one
from things to words, that is, to general propositions : ἢ
to the assumption in each case of an universal propo-
sition or hypothesis calculated to fit that case. He
does not seem to consider the optimistic doctrine,
which he had before vainly endeavoured to follow
out, as having been an hypothesis, or universal pro-
position assumed as true and as a principle from
which to deduce consequences. Even if it were 80,

however, it was one and the same assumption in-
tended to suit all cases: whereas the new doctrine to which he
passed included many distinct assumptions, each adapted to a

certain number of cases and not to the rest.?

He assumed an

untold multitude of self-existent Ideas—The Self-Beautiful, Self-
Just, Self-Great, Self-Equal, Self-Unequal, &c—each of them
adapted to a certain number of particular cases: the Self-
Beautiful was assumed as the cause why all particular. things
were beautiful—as that, of which all and each of them partakes
—and so of the rest.* Plato then explains his procedure. He

onal, ascertain-
able by experience and induction. See

the oo oct and elaborate chapter on
ect in Mr. ἢ ohn St Mill’s

. System ons iii. ch. 6,
in the fourth,

vise an sixth edi ons of that work,

including the criticism on the opposite
or volitional theory of Causation; also
the work of Professor « The
Emotions and the Will,’ pp. 472-584.
The opposite view, in which Causes
are treated as something essentially
distinct from Laws, and as ultra-
phenomenal, is set “forth by Dr. Whe-
well, ‘N om Organon ovatam,’
ch. vii. p ὃ sea.

1 ‘Aristotle (Metaphysic. A. 987, b.
81, Θ. 1050, Ὁ. 35) the Platonici

; οἱ ἐν τοῖς λόγοις : see the note of
Bonitz.

pt. ἢ. 9, 826, Ὁ. 10, also
Metaphys. A. ool, Ὁ, δ

Σωκράτης
κεῖνος, ἐπιτιμήσας τοῖς ἄλλοις ὡς
εἰρηκόσιν, vworlGeres—which is
very true about the Platonic
Phadon, &. But in both the two
ἔμεν the es, Aristotle maintains
8 Ideas cannot be Causes of any

is another illustration of what
I have observed above, that the mean-
ing of the word ὅσιος has been always

fiu and undetermined.
We see while Aristotle affirmed

CHap. XXV. TRUTH RESIDES IN UNIVERSALS. 411

first deduced various consequences from this assumed hypothesis,
and examined whether all of them were consistent or inconsis-
tent with each other. If he detected inconsistencies (as 6.6. in
the last half of the Parmenidés), we must suppose (though Plato
does not expressly say so) that he would reject or modify his
fundamental assumption : if he found none, he would retain it.
The point would have to be tried by dialectic debate with an
opponent: the logical process of inference and counter-inference
is here assumed to be trustworthy. But during this debate Plato
would require his opponent to admit the truth of the funda-
mental hypothesis provisionally. If the opponent chose to
impugn the latter, he must open a distinct debate on that express
subject. Plato insists that the discussion of the consequences
flowing from the hypothesis, shall be kept quite apart from the
discussion on the credibility of the hypothesis itself. From the
language employed, he seems to have had in view certain dis-_
putants known to him, by whom the two were so blended to-
gether as to produce much confusion in the reasoning.

But if your opponent impugns the hypothesis itself, how are
you to defend it? Plato here tells us: by means of ppimate
some other hypothesis or assumption, yet more uni- sppeal to
versal than itself. You must ascend upwards in the hypothesis treme
scale of generality, until you find an assumption Seerality.
suitable and sufficient.)

We here see where it was that Plato looked for fall, indisput-
able, self-recommending and self-assuring, certainty and truth.
Among the most universal propositions. He states the matter
here as if we were to provide defence for an hypothesis less uni-
versal by ascending to another hypothesis more universal. This
is illustrated by what he says in the Timsus—Propositions are
cognate with the matter which they affirm : those whose affirma-
tion is purely intellectual, comprising only matter of the intel-
ligible world, or of genuine Essence, are solid and inexpugnable :
those which take in more or less of the sensible world, which is
ἃ mere copy of the intelligible exemplar, become less and less
trustworthy—mere probabilities. Here we have the Platonic
worship of the most universal propositions, as the only primary

that the Ideas could not be Causes of they are the onl true Causes.
anything, Plato here maintains that 1 Plato, Phsedon, p. 101 E.

412 PHAZDON. CHap. XXV.

and evident truths! But in the sixth and seventh books of the
Republic, he delivers a precept somewhat different, requiring the
philosopher not to rest in any hypothesis as an ultimatum, but
to consider them all as stepping-stones for enabling him to ascend
into a higher region, above all hypothesis—to the first principle
of every thing: and he considers geometrical reasoning as de-
fective because it takes its departure from hypothesis or assump-
tions of which no account is rendered.? In the Republic he thus
contemplates an intuition by the mind of some primary, clear,
self-evident truth, above all hypotheses or assumptions even tlie
most universal, and transmitting its own certainty to every thing
which could be logically deduced from it: while in the Phaedon,
he does not recognise any thing higher or more certain than the
most universal hypothesis—and he even presents the theory of
self-existent Ideas as nothing more than an hypothesis, though a
very i one. In the Republic, Plato has come to ima-
gine the Idea of Good as distinguished from and illuminating
all the other Ideas : in the Timeus, it seems personified in the
Demiurgus ; in the Phdon, that Idea of Good appears to be re-
presented by the Nous or Reason of Anaxagoras. But Sokrates
is unable to follow it out, so that it becomes included, without
any pre-eminence, among the Ideas generally: all of them
transcendental, co-ordinate, and primary sources of truth to the
intelligent mind—yet each of them exercising a causative in-
fluence in its own department, and bestowing its own special
character on various particulars.

It is from the assumption of these Ideas as eternal Essences,
Plato's de. that Plato undertakes to demonstrate the immortality
monstration of the soul. One Idea or Form will not admit, but
mortality of peremptorily excludes, the approach of that other

εἰκόνος, ε
ὄντας" ,διτιπερ πρὸς γένεσιν οὐσία, τοῦτο
πρὸς πίστιν

2 Plato, Republic, vi. p. 611. τῶν

ὑποθέσεων ἀνωτέρω ἐκβαίνειν

. - τὸ ὅτερον τμῆμα τοῦ νοητοῦ, οὗ
αὐτὸς ὃ λόγος ἄπτεται τῇ τοῦ διαλέγεσθαι
δυνάμει, τὰς ὑποθέσεις ποιούμενος οὔκ
ἀρχὰς ἀλλὰ τῷ ὄντι ὑποθέσεις, οἷον ἐπι-
βάσεις τε καὶ ὁρμάς, tnd μέχρι τοῦ
ἐγντοθέτον ἐπὶ τὴν τοῦ ,»παντὸς

χὴν ἰών, ἁψάμενος
αὐ ἐχόμενος τῶν ἐκείνης Feoptren
οὕτως Gai τε
παντάπασιν οὐδενὶ προσχρώμενος, ἀλλ
εἴδεσιν αὑτοῖς δι’ αὑτῶν αὑτά,
καὶ τελευτᾷ εἰς εἴδη. Compare vii.
Ῥ. 633.

CuHap. XXV. PROOF OF IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL. 413

Form which is opposite to it. Greatness will not re- the soul
ceive the form of littleness: nor will the greatness the assump-
which is in any particular subject receive the form of {on of the
littleness. If the form of littleness be brought to ideas. Rea-
bear, greatness will not stay to receive it, but will prove this,
either retire or be destroyed. The same is true likewise re-
‘specting that which essentially has the form: thus fire has
essentially the form of heat, and snow has essentially the form of
cold. Accordingly fire, as it will not receive the form of cold, so
neither will it receive snow : and snow, as it will not receive the
form of heat, so neither will it receive fire. If fire comes, snow
will either retire or will be destroyed. The Triad has always the
Form of Oddness, and will never receive that of Evenness : the
Dyad has always the Form of Evenness, and will never receive
that of .Oddness—upon the approach of this latter it will either
disappear or will be destroyed : moreover the Dyad, while re-
fusing to receive the Form of Oddness, will refuse also to receive
that of the Triad, which always embodies that Form—although
three is not in direct contrariety with two. If then we are
asked, What is that, the presence of which makes a body hot? we
need not confine ourselves to the answer—lIt is the Form of Heat
—which, though correct, gives no new information : but we may
farther say—It is Fire, which involves the Form of Heat. If
we are asked, What is that, the presence of which makes a
number odd, we shall not say—It is Oddness: but we shall say
—It is the Triad or the Pentad—both of which involve Oddness.
In like manner, the question being asked, What is that, which,
being in the body, will give it life? we must answer— .
It is the soul. The soul, when it lays hold of any ways brings
body, always arrives bringing with it life. Now essentially
death is the contrary of life. Accordingly the soul, Hvins, It
which always brings with it life, will never receive ceive death ;
the contrary of life. In other words, it is deathless roe it is
or immortal.! immortal.

1 Plato, Phsedon, p. 105 ΟἽ. ᾿Απο- μέντοι, ἔφη. Πότερον δ᾽ ἔστι τι ζωῇ
κρίνον δή, ΕῚ ἂν τί ᾧ ἕνηται σώματι, ζῶν ἐναντίον, ἣ οὐδέν; Ἔστιν, ἔφη. Τί;
ἔσται; Ὧι ἂν ἂν ψυχή, ἔφη. Οὐκοῦν ἀεὶ Θάνατος. Οὐκοῦν ἣ ψυχὴ τὸ ἐναντίον
τοῦτο οὕτως ἔχει; Πῶς γὰρ οὐχί; ἢ δ᾽ gf αὐτὴ ἐπιφέρει ἀεὶ od μή wore δέξηται,
ὅς. Ἢ ψυχὴ ἄρα ὅ, τι ἂν αὑτὴ κατάσχῃ, ὡς ἐκ τῶν πρόσθεν ὡμολόγηται; Καὶ
ἀεὶ ἥκει dx ἐκεῖνο φέρουσα ζωήν; Ἧκει μάλα σφόδρα, ἔφη ὁ Κέβης. . . . Ὃ δ᾽

414

PHZDON..

CHap. XXV.

Such is the ground upon which Sokrates rests his belief in the

The proof of
immortality

from one
body to
another.

immortality of the soul. The doctrine reposes, in
Plato’s view, upon the assumption of eternal, self-
existent, unchangeable, Ideas or Forms:! upon the
congeniality of nature, and inherent correlation, be-
tween these Ideas and the Soul: upon the fact, that
the soul knows these Ideas, which -knowledge must
have been acquired in a prior state of existence : and
upon the essential participation of the soul in the
Idea of life, so that it cannot be conceived as without
life, or as dead. The immortality of the soul is
conceived as necessary and entire, including not

merely post-existence, but also pre-existence. In fact the refer-
ence to an anterior time is more essential to Plato’s theory than
that to a posterior time ; because it is employed to explain the
cognitions of the mind, and the identity of learning with re-
miniscence : while Simmias, who even at the close is not without

ἂν θάνατον μὴ δέχηται, τί καλοῦμεν;
᾿Αθάνατον, ἔφη. ᾿Αθάνατον ἄρα ἡ ψυχή;
᾿Αθάνατον.

by Plato of the imm t;
soul are knotty and difficult
stand, such as even adepts in philo-
sophical study can hardly follow. His
own belief in it he reste upon the in-
spiration of the Christian Scriptures

emesius de Nat. Homin. c. 2, p. 56,
ed. 1565).

1 Plato, Phesdon, . 7% D-E, 100
B-C. It is remarkable that in the

arguments used in the Phxdon, but
produces another argument totally dis-
ct and novel: an argument which
Meiners remarks truly to be quite
to Plato, Republic, x. pp. 609
611 C; Meiners, chte der
Wissenschaften, vol. ii. p. 780.

2Zeller, Philosophie der Griech.
Part ii. p. 267.

‘* Die Seele ist ihrem Begriffe nach
dasjenige, zu dessen Wesen es gehirt
za leben—sie kann also in keinem
Augenblicke als nicht lebend gedacht
werden: In diesem onto en Be-
weis fiir die Unsterblichkeit, laufen

to TeP

nicht bloss alle die einzelnen Beweise
es Phsdon zusammen, sondern der-
selbe wird auch schon im Phaedrus
vorgetragen,” &c. Compare

p. 245.
Eee We cents de τας

850 - 9

wintains that Pinte did mot comceiee

the literal sense of the words, its
separate existence either before or after
the ὁ life—that he did not de-
scend to so crade a conception (zu
dieser Rohheit hera inken) as to

resent to himself the soul as a thing,
or to enquire into its duration or con-
tinuance after the manner of a thing—
that Plato understood the soul to exist
essentially as the Universal Notion or

ea, the comprehensive aggregate
all other Ideas, in which sense he
affirmed it to be immortal—that the
descriptions which Plato gives of its
condition, either before life or after
death, are to be treated only as poetical
metaphors. There is ingenuity in this
view of Hegel, and many te
expressions of Plato receive lish from
it: but ita to me to refine away
too much. Plato had in his own mind
and belief both the soul as a particular
Hie ianetnge i soul as an universal
His lage implies sometimes the
one sometimes the other.

Cup. XXV BELIEF IN PRE-EXISTENCE. 415

reserve on the subject of the pdst-existence, proclaims an emphatic
adhesion on that of the pre-existence.1 The proof, moreover,
being founded in great part on the Idea of Life, embraces every
thing living, and is common to animals? (if not to plants) as
well as to men: and the metempsychosis—or transition of souls
not merely from one human body to another, but also from the
human to the animal body, and wice versd—is a portion of the
Platonic creed.

Having completed his demonstration of the immortality of the
soul, Sokrates proceeds to give a sketch of the condi- after finish-
tion and treatment which it experiences after death. [πᾶ bis proof
The Nexvia here following is analogous, in genera] is immortal,
doctrinal scope, to those others which we read in the entersintoa
Republic and in the Gorgias: but all of them are ‘description,
different in particular incidents, illustrative circum- become of
stances, and scenery. The sentiment of belief in death of the
Plato’s mind attaches itself to general doctrines, %4¥., He
which appear to him to possess an evidence inde- Ne«vie.
pendent of particulars. When he applies these doctrines to
particulars, he makes little distinction between such as are true,
or problematical, or fictitious : he varies his mythes at pleasure,
provided that they serve the purpose of illustrating his general
view. The mythe which we read in the Phedon includes a
description of the Earth which to us appears altogether imagina-
tive and poetical: yet it is hardly more so than several other
current theories, proposed by various philosophers antecedent and
contemporary, respecting Earth and Sea. Aristotle criticises the
views expressed in the Phedon, as he criticises those of Demo-
kritus and Empedokles.® Each soul of a deceased person is
conducted by his Genius to the proper place, and there receives
sentence of condemnation to suffering, greater or less according

1 Plato, Pheedon, pp. 92 D, 107 B. 852, a. 85, about the ἀρχαῖοι θεόλογοι.
3 Bee what what Bok says about the He is rather more severe upon these

rm Plato, Fh 85 A-B. others than upon Plato. He too con-
3 Plato, , Phan, νῷ βάθη, pp. 107-111. Olym- siders, like Plato, that the amount of
to bea evidence which you ought to require

ot imitation of the truth, Republ. x. for your belief depends upon the nature
seq. ; Gorgias, p. 520; Aristotle, of the subject; and t there are
eteorol. iL. 855-856.

M pare various subjects on which P hag ought
Moteorol. ii pp. £06856. Compare to believe on hter evidence: see
states and canvasses the doctrines of Metaphysic. A. a. 2-16; Ethic.

Demokritus and Empedokles; also Nikom. i. 1, 1004, Ὁ. 12-14

416 ‘ PHZDON. Cuap. XXV.

to his conduct in life, in the deep chasm called Tartarus, and in
the rivers of mud and fire, Styx, Kokytus, Pyriphlegethon.’ To
those who have passed their lives in learning, and who have
detached themselves as much as they possibly could from all
pleasures and all pursuits connected with the body—in order to
pursue wisdom and virtue—a full reward is given. They are
emancipated from the obligation of entering another body, and
are allowed to live ever afterwards disembodied in the pure
regions of Ideas.?
Such, or something like it, Sokrates confidently expects will
Sokratesex- be the fate awaiting himself. When asked by Kriton,
ἴδ ὑπαὶ among other questions, how he desired to be buried,
going to the he replies with a smile—“ You may bury me as you
the blest. choose, if you can only catch me. But you will not
Replyto understand me when I tell you, that I, Sokrates, who
about bury- am now speaking, shall not remain with you after
inghisbody. having drunk the poison, but shall depart to some of
the enjoyments of the blest. You must not talk about burying
or burning Sokrates, as if I were suffering some terrible operation.
Such language is inauspicious and depressing to our minds.
Keep up your courage, and talk only of burying the body of
Sokrates: conduct the burial as you think best and most decent.”*
Sokrates then retires with Kriton into an interior chamber to
Prepara- § bathe, desiring that the women may be spared the
tions for . task of washing his body after his decease. Having
ing the taken final leave of his wife and children, he returns
Sympathy to his friends as sunset is approaching. We are here
the made to see the contrast between him and other
equani: prisoners under like circumstances. The attendant of
Sokrates. δε Eleven Magistrates comes to warn him that the

1 Plato, Phsedon, pp. 111-112. Com- dolorem admittere ; quod antem sentiat
bius, Prep. Ev. xiii. 18, and dolorem, immortalitatem habere non

Arnobius adv. Gentes, fi. 14. Ar- posse?” Ν

nobius blames Plato for inconsistency 3 Plato, Phsedon, p. 114 C-E.

in saying that the soul is immortal in τοῦτων δὲ αὑτῶν οἱ φιλοσοφίᾳ ἱκανῶς

its own nature, and yet that it suffers ωαθηράμενοι ἄνευ τε σωμάτων ζῶσι τὸ

inenoda παράπαν eis τὸν ἔπειτα χρόνον, ἄς.
3 Plato, Phzedon, p. 115 A.

soliditate privates, punirl eas dicat | ‘Plato, Phwdon, p. 115 Ὁ. ὡς ἐπει-
tamen et doloris afficiat sensu. Quis δὰν πίω τὸ φάρμακον οὐκέτι ὑμῖν wape-
autem hominum non videt quod sit rides. GAA οἰχήσομαι ἀπιὼν εἰς μακάρων
immortale, quod simplex, nullum posse δ τινας εὐδαιμονίας.

Crap. XXV. EQUANIMITY OF SOKRATES. 417

hour has come for swallowing the poison: expressing sym-
pathy and regret for the necessity of delivering so painful a
message, together with admiration for the equanimity and
rational judgment of Sokrates, which he contrasts forcibly with
the discontent and wrath of other prisoners under similar cir-
cumstances. As he turned away with tears in his eyes, Sokrates
exclaimed—“ How courteous the man is to me—and has been
from the beginning! how generously he now weeps for me!
Let us obey him, and let the poison be brought forthwith, if it
be prepared: if not, let him prepare it.” “Do not hurry”
(interposed Kriton) : “there is still time, for the sun is not quite
set. I have known others who, even after receiving the order,
deferred drinking the poison until they had had a good supper
and other enjoyments.” “It is natural that they should do so”
(replied Sokrates). “They think that they are gainers by it:
for me, it is natural that I should not do so—for I shall gain
nothing but contempt in my own eyes, by thus clinging to life,
and saving up when there is nothing left.”?

Kriton accordingly gave orders, and the poison, after a certain
interval, was brought in. Sokrates, on asking for Sokrates
directions, was informed, that after having swallowed swallows
it, he must walk about until his legs felt heavy: he {be poison.
must then lie down and cover himself up: the poison tion with
would do its work. He took the cup without any snort:
symptom of alarm or change of countenance: then looking at
the attendant with his usual full and fixed gaze, he asked
whether there was enough to allow of alibation. “We prepare
as much as is sufficient” (was the answer), “but no more.” “I
understand” (said Sokrates): “but at least I may pray, and I
must pray, to the Gods, that my change of abode from here to
there may be fortunate.” He then put the cup to his lips, and
drank it off with perfect ease and tranquillity.’

His friends, who had hitherto maintained their self-control,
were overpowered by emotion on seeing the cup swal- yryovern.
lowed, and broke out into violent tears and lamenta- able sorrow
tion. No one was unmoved, except Sokrates him- friends

1 Plato, Phedon, Ὁ. 117 A. γλιχό- Hesiod. ., ot Dies, 867. δειλὴ δ᾽

garos τοῦ ζῆν, καὶ de ς οὐδενὸς ἔτι dvi peur της των p17e.
2.27

418 PHZDOX. — Cap. XXV.

resent. self: who gently remonstrated with them, and ex-
mandof _ horted them to tranquil resignation: reminding them
Sokrates that nothing but good words was admissible at the
to F Kriton, hour of death. The friends, ashamed of themselves,
* found means to repress their tears. -Sokrates walked

about until he felt heavy in the legs, and then lay down in bed.
After some interval, the attendant of the prison came to examine
his feet and legs, pinched his foot with force, and enquired
whether he felt it. Sokrates replied in the negative. Presently
the man pinched his legs with similar result, and showed to the
friends in that way that his body was gradually becoming chill
and benumbed: adding that as soon as this should get to the
heart, he would die! The chill had already reached his belly,
when Sokrates uncovered his face, which had been hitherto con-
cealed by the bed-clothes, and spoke his last words :? “ Kriton,

Plato, Phsedon, Ὁ. 118. These Quid cause autem fuerit, dié
details receive in confirmation intellexi quam & vobis Χολὴν
from the remarkable scene described ror nocta eject « statim ita sum
by Valerius Maximus, as witnessed by levatus, ut mihi Deus aliquis medicinam

mself at Julis in the island of Keos, fecisse videatur. Cui quidem Deo,
qrhen he accompanied Sextus Pompeius quemadmodum tu soles, pié ot casté

manus ad supremum opprimendorum es
‘cculorum n officiam advocavit. Nostros more Confidence in these rev ns
autem, etsi novo spectaculo ob- than 8 of p an
stupefacti erant, suffusos tamen lacri- to have often acted on them in’ pre-
isit.” ference to such advice (Orat. xlv. pp.
2 Plato, Pheedon, Ὁ. 118. ἥδη οὖν 20-22, Dind.).
σχεδόν τι αὑτοῦ ἦν τὰ περὶ τὸ Frpoy The direction here given by Sokrates

το, ὯὮ ἔτων, ἔφη, τῷ ᾿Ασκληπιῴῷ Griechischen Denker, 227, inter-
Seo skeen aX? ashore καὶ pret it in a cal’ sense) is to be
μὴ ἀμελήσητε understood simply and literally, in my

tudines deposui et ejeci. very religious man, much influenced

Cuap. XXV. LAST WORDS. 419

we owe a cock to Aisculapius: pay the debt without fail” “It
shall be done” (answered Kriton); “have you any other injunc-
tions?” Sokrates made no reply, but again covered himself up.!
After a short interval, he made some movement: the attendant
presently uncovered him, and found him dead, with his eyes stiff
and fixed. Kriton performed the last duty. of closing both his
eyes and his mouth.

The pathetic details of this scene—arranged with so much
dramatic beauty, and lending imperishable interest + mo
to the Phedon of Plato—may be regarded as real pathos, and
facta, described from the recollection of an eye- Provable
witness, though many years after their occurrence. fhiness of
They present to us the personality of Sokrates in full sonal nal de-
harmony with that which we read in the Platonic “*
Apology. The tranquil ascendancy of resolute and rational
conviction, satisfied with the past, and welcoming instead of
fearing the close of life—is exhibited as triumphing in the one
case over adverse accusers and judges, in the other case over the
unnerving manifestations of afflicted friends.

But though the personal incidents of this dialogue are truly
Sokratic—the dogmatic emphasis, and the apparatus
of argument and hypothesis, are essentially Platonic. between the
In these respects, the dialogue contrasts remarkably Apoloes
with the Apology. When addressing the Dikasts, and the
Sokrates not only makes no profession of dogmatic
certainty, but expressly disclaims it. Nay more—he considers
that the false persuasion of such dogmatic certainty, universally
prevalent among his countrymen, is as pernicious as it is
illusory: and that his own superiority over others consists
merely in consciousness of his own ignorance, while they are
unconscious of theirs? To dissipate such false persuasion of
knowledge, by perpetual cross-examination of every one around,
is the special mission imposed upon him by the Gods: in which
mission, indeed, he has the firmest belief—but it is a belief, like

b heci es, dreams, an ov δέ ὡς τάχος πέπ-

ΌΣ οῖτι ee Apel and Kpvyor μου πρόσωπον ὡς τάχος

ῬΡ. 21-29-88 ; also P ons (Palo, Apo p. 2 Plato, Apol Sokr. pp. 21-29. καὶ
twove

πῶς οὐκ ἁμαθία στὶν
1 Euripid. Hippol. 1455. πονείδιστος, ἡ ἦν τοῦ οἴεσθαι eiSéves ἂν By

Kexaprépnra: rd’ ὅλωλα γάρ, πατέρ. ἐπι (29 A-

Aw PHADON. Cmar. XXV.

that in his Demon or divine sign, depending upon oracles,
dreams, and other revelations peculiar to himself, which he does
not expect that the Dikasts will admit as genuine evidence.’
One peculiar example, whereby Sokrates exemplifies the false

ion of knowledge where men have no real knowledge, is
borrowed from the fear of death. No man knows (he says) what
desth is, not even whether it may not be a signal benefit: yet
every man fears it as if he well knew that it was the greatest
evil? Death must be one of two things: either a final extinc-

1 Plato, Apol. Sokr. pp. £1-28, BL
858: ἐμοὶ δὲ τοῦτο, & ὦ φημι, πῇ

τέτακται ὑπὸ προς ὑπ όπς "πὶ de
ἮΝ παντὶ

; 398.
᾿Ἴροι. 5. Ὁ. μὰ

2
Sokratos, no allusion is made
ity of the soul. Sokrates

Ἐξ
ay

arrived at a term when it was
rogues μὰς onl caly expose him
few.
Gabiltden of soul. Ite a proot of
. Thise
the benevolence of the Gods that ha is κακὸν παθεῖν, μήτε ἣν μετὰ τοῦ θείον
withdrawn from life at so opportane a γένωμαι, μήτε ἣν μηδὲν ere % ‘The
moment. This is the explanation view taken here by Cyrus, of in
‘which Xenophon gives of the Its analogy with sloop (avy καὶ andr
yee of, the Gatence (pects. 6-15-5 ἀράν, Tiad, ine as & refuge
ο Xenophon agains iding evil for the fatare,
on his -bed, ig much the same as that taken by
εἰν rie at once te tach exo ἀπὸ ἀρ Bot proud of his past life, spent
ve exhortations, not lees ti
‘reminds them that his own soul i Cyrus of his
still survive and will still exercise a glorions exploits. Ὃ θάνατος, λιμὴν
certain authority after his death. He ῶ ὃς νεῦσιν, Longinus,
expresses his own belief not only that de 800]. 9, 23. pare also
survives the body, but also the Oration of Julius in Sallust,
‘that it becomes more rational when ἃ. 61—“in lucta atque
A 1. Murderers miseriis, Ν
‘are distarbed by the souls of murdered esse: illam cuncta mor-

Cuap. XXV. OPINION OF SOKRATES ON DEATH. 421

mever interposed any obstruction in regard to his trial and
sentence. If (says he) I am transferred to some other abode,
among those who have died before me, how delightful will it be
to see Homer and Hesiod, Orpheus and Muszeus, Agamemnon,
Ajax or Palamédes—and to pass my time in cross-examining
each as to his true or false knowledge !! Lastly, so far as he
professes to aim at any positive end, it is the diffusion of poli-
tical, social, human virtue, as distinguished from acquisitions
above the measure of humanity. He tells men that it is not
wealth which produces virtue, but virtue which produces wealth
and other advantages, both public and private.?

If from the Apology we turn to the Phzdon, we seem to pass,
not merely to the same speaker after the interval of abundant
one month (the ostensible interval indicated) but toa gogmeee
different speaker and over a long period. We have invention of
Plato speaking through the mouth of Sokrates, and compared
Plato too at a much later time. Though the mora] With the
character (ἦθος) of Sokrates is fully maintained and of ignorance
even strikingly dramatised—the intellectual persona- read in the
lity is altogether transformed. Instead of a speaker Apology.
who avows his own ignorance, and blames others only for believ-
ing themselves to know when they are equally ignorant—we
have one who indulges in the widest range of theory and the
boldest employment of hypothesis. Plato introduces his own
dogmatical and mystical views, leaning in part on the Orphic
and Pythagorean creeds. He declares the distinctness of nature,
the incompatibility, the forced temporary union and active con-
flict, between the soul and the body. He includes this in the
still wider and more general declaration, which recognises anti-
thesis between the two worlds: the world of Ideas, Forms,
Essences, not perceivable but only cogitable, eternal, and un-
changeable, with which the soul or mind was in kindred and
communion—the world of sense, or of transient and ever-

1 Plato, Apo). S. pp. 40-41. vol. i. ch. ix. p. 410) I have already

2 Plato, ,Apol. 8. pp. 20 C, 29-80. noticed this very material discrepancy,
λέγων ὅτι οὐκ ἐκ χρημάτων ἀρετὴ γίγνε- which is insisted upon Ast as an
ται, ἀλλ᾽ ἐξ ἀρετῆς χρήματα, καὶ rdAAa argument for disallowing genuine-
ἀγαθὰ τοῖς ἀγθρώποις ἅπαντα, καὶ ἰδίᾳ ness οὗ the Apology.
κ

Pon, Memorab. i y goompare Xeno- ς Plato, Pheedon, pp. 69 C, 700, 81

‘422 PHADON. CHap. XXV.

changing appearances or phenomena, never arriving at permanent
existence, but always coming and going, with which the body
was in commerce and harmony. The philosopher, who thirsts
only after knowledge and desires to look at things! as they are
in themselves, with his mind by itself—is represented as desiring,
throughout all his life, to loosen as much as possible the implica-
tion of his soul with his body, and as rejoicing when the hour of
death arrives to divorce them altogether.

Such total renunciation of the body is put, with dramatic pro-
Totalrenun- PYriety, into the mouth of Sokrates during the last
ciation and hour of his life. But it would not have been in har-
the body in mony with the character of Sokrates as other Platonic
the F'heedon. dialogues present him—in the plenitude of life—
feeling manifesting distinguished bodily strength and sol-
body in dierly efficiency, proclaiming gymnastic training for
ier ic. the body to be co-ordinate with musical training
dialogues. for the mind, and impressed with the most intense
admiration for the personal beauty of youth. The human body,
which in the Phedon is discredited as a morbid incumbrance
corrupting the purity of the soul, is presented to us by Sokrates
in the Phedrus as the only sensible object which serves as a
mirror and reflection of the beauty of the ideal world :? while
the Platonic Timzus proclaims (in language not unsuitable to
Locke) that sight, hearing, and speech are the sources of our
abstract Ideas, and the generating causes of speculative intellect
and philosophy.* Of these, and of the world of sense generally,
an opposite view was appropriate in the Phsedon; where the
purpose of Sokrates is to console his distressed friends by showing

ι Plato, Pheedon, p. 66 Ε. ἀπαλλακ- Aristeides, Orat. xiv. pp. 20-28, ed.
τέον αὐτοῦ (τοῦ σώματος) καὶ αὐτῇ τῇ Dindorf. Aristeides mentions Ὁ (p. 29)
ψυχῇ θεατέον αὐτὰ τὰ πράγματα. that various persons in his time mis-

Charmidés, p. 1 55D, Pro- took these expressions ascribed to
tagoras, tote neirna, p p. D. Sokrates for the real talk of Sokrates
Symposion, pp. iW C, 210 A. himself. Com also

sc hines, one of τὰς Socraticl | viri of Xenophon, iv. 27.
or fellow inves 8 es of Sokra ong
with Plato, composed dialogues (of the cult Plato, Timeus, Ὁ. . 47, ΑΡ Ρ. δ,
same general nature as those of where Plato insists on the nox necessity 0
wherein Sokrates was introduced con co-ordinate attention both to mind ad
yorsing or Atschines placed +, body, and on the mischiefs of highly
in the mouth of Sokrates the most in- developed force in the mind unless it

nse expressions of passionate admira- be accom de-

tense
Soa the Wragmonte cited by Aki Bhetor velopmen ov of fo of force in the body.

CHap. XXV. FEELING ABOUT THE BODY. 423

that death was no misfortune, but relief from a burthen. And
Plato has availed himself of this impressive situation,! to recom-
mend, with every charm of poetical expression, various charac-
teristic dogmas respecting the essential distinction between Ideas
and the intelligible world on one side—Perceptions and the
sensible world on the other : respecting the soul, its nature akin
to the intelligible world, its pre-existence anterior to its present
body, and its continued existence after the death of the latter:
respecting the condition of the soul before birth and after death,
its transition, in the case of most men, into other bodies, either
human or animal, with the condition of suffering penalties
commensurate to the wrongs committed in this life: finally,
respecting the privilege accorded to the souls of such as have
passed their lives in intellectual and philosophical occupation,
that they shall after death remain for ever disembodied, in
direct communion with the world of Ideas.

The main part of Plato's argumentation, drawn from the
general assumptions of his philosophy, is directed to Plato’
prove the separate and perpetual existence of the soul, argument
before as well as after the body. These arguments, “00s not
interesting as specimens of the reasoning which satis- Emmortality
fied Plato, do not prove his conclusion? But even if Even if it

1Compare the deacri of the sented from him about the
last discourse of Pete Threace. Taci-

tas, Annal xvi. 34. —i. 32, Θ n
Wyttenbach has annexed to his to be spurious. Galen also mentions

bebdaapet Ua Pie co. ἠθῶν, iv. 778. In
oram, quam uen » ὧν,
@isputat. De Placit. Anim. ts the opinion of

494 PHEDON. Cuar. XXV.

that conclusion were admitted to be proved, the con-
dition of the soul, during such anterior and posterior
existence, would be altogether undetermined, and
would be left to the free play of sentiment and imagi-
nation. There is no, subject upon which the poetical
the soul, —_genius of Plato has been more abundantly exercised.*
quite unde He has given us two different descriptions of the state
termined. Of the soul before its junction with the body (Timsus,
and Phadrus), and three different descriptions of its destiny after
separation from the body (Republic, Gorgias, Phedon). In all
the three, he supposes an adjudication and classification of the
departed souls, and a better or worse fate alloted to each accord-
ing to the estimate which he forms of their merits or demerits
during life : but in each of the three, this general idea is carried
out by a different machinery. The Hades of Plato is not an-
nounced even by himself as anything more than δ]

to the truth : but it embodies his own ethical and judicial sen-
tence on the classes of men around him—as the Divina Com-
media embodies that of Dante on antecedent individual persons.
Plato distributes rewards and penalties in the measure which he
conceives to be deserved : he erects his own approbation and dis-
approbation, his own sympathy and antipathy, into laws of the
unknown future state: the Gods, whom he postulates, are

understand the dnconaietentien Stich fore remark that it did not consist with
Galen pointed out in his lost the conclusion whieh he

in the argumentation of the Phedon? the

wherein one of the proofs presented τον το Le 10.

to establish the immortality dt the soul mus de philosopba ht loci parte,
is—That, the soul is i bly and qua 3 oso ims.
‘essentially identified with ae Hoortalos, Altera par, qul ostendier,

ity
ro inferior of the ‘Skolion of Kallistratus, Antholog.
Ey nt eae ὡς οἱ he τα re. Gree. p. 156. Lsokrates, "Rooomias

CuHap. XXV. THE PHILOSOPHER AFTER DEATH. 425

The Philosopher, as a recompense for having detached himself
during life as much as possible from the body and all he phito.
its functions, will be admitted after death to existence Sopher will
asa soul pure and simple, unattached to any body. existence of
The souls of all other persons, dying with more or Pure soul ,
less of the taint of the body attached to each of them,! any body.
and for that reason haunting the tombs in which the bodies are
buried, so as to become visible there as ghosts—are made subject,
in the Platonic Hades, to penalty and purification suitable to the
respective condition of each ; after which they become attached
to new bodies, sometimes of men, sometimes of other animals.
Of this distributive scheme it is not possible to frame any clear
idea, nor is Plato consistent with himself except in a few material
features. But one feature there is in it which stands conspicuous
—the belief in the metempsychosis, or transfer of the same
soul from one animal body to another: a belief very widely
diffused throughout the ancient world, associated with the im-
mortality of the soul, pervading the Orphic and Pythagorean
creeds, and having its root in the Egyptian and Oriental re-
ligions.?

Helenz, Or. x. s. 70-72. Compare serere, qui sciret certis carminibus cieri
the Néxua of the Odyssey and that of ab infernis animas et adesse et preebere

Armorumque vi use cura mentis presentibus vincerentur” (Lac-
Pascere ect ead κεῖνα tel 31. See
repostos.” (Ain. ri. 658-5.) ὠ ἢ Compare the closing h of
ipa pen = CD ἐδ. the Platonic Timens: Virgil’ Atneid
, _ Bo, *nedon, p. . ὃ δὴ vi 718, Herodot. ii. 128, Pausanias, iv.
καὶ ἔχουσα ἢ τοιαύτη ψνχὴ βαρύνεται 59 4 Soxtus Rmpiric. adv. Math. ix. 127
τε καὶ ἕλκεται πάλιν εἰς τὸν ὁρατὸν with the citation from Expedotles :
τόπον, φόβῳ τοῦ ἀειδοῦς τε καὶ on AD ἣν uibus
ὥσπερ λέγεται, περὶ τὰ μνήματά, τὰ καὶ Tum pater chises: ‘ Anima q
ous x ° we
nad seer ore ψυχῶν, onvoe a perréc. Corpora debentar, Lethe! ad fluminis
καθαρῶς ἀπολνυθεῖσαι, Securos latices et longa oblivia po-

εἴδωλα, ai ᾿
ἀλλὰ τοῦ Δ τος μετέχουσαι, tant’.”
διὸ καὶ ὁρῶνται. The a which

tius—in to the argu- the M peychosis set forth.

ments of Demokritas, Bpikurus, and by Virgil in the fine lines which follow,

Dikeearchus imm 728-751 ; compare soorgic iv. 218. The
men, beaste, d

126 PHADON. CHap. XXV.

We are told that one vehement admirer of Plato — the
Plato’sde- Ambrakiot Kleombrotus—was so profoundly affected
monstration and convinced by reading the Phsdon, that he im-
mortality of mediately terminated his existence by leaping from a
the soul high wall; though-in other respects well satisfied
aot ctory with life. But the number of persons who derived
tosubse- from it such settled conviction, was certainly not
osophers. considerable. Neither the doctrine nor the. reason-
ahe ques- ings of Plato were adopted even by the immediate
mained de- successors in his school : still less by Aristotle and
proble . the Peripatetics—or by the Stoics—or by the Epi-
kureans. The Epikureans. denied altogether the
survivorship of soul over body: Aristotle gives a definition of
the soul which involves this same negation, though he admits as
credible the separate existence of the rational soul, without indi-
viduality or personality. The Stoics, while affirming the soul to

comes tainted by such communion ; handled in s learned work published
after death it is purified by penalties, in 1712 by a Jesuit of Toulouse,
measured according to the greater of Michel Mourgues. He ‘shows (in op-
less taint, and becomes then fit to be tion to Dacier and others, who in-

me-

ἀθάνατον ἀποφῃν ᾿ μετενσω-

τωσιν δογματίζουσιν Natur& me: οὐ cela sans figure
ominis, cap. it LD ῥῦ, ed. 1565), phore. Cet
Plato accep the

third .» de Pythagore
including Plotinus, Numenius, and tenue dans un sens trés réel ta la
others. But Porphyry, followed by pluralité des vies et di’ ”
Jamblichus, ἢ introd uced QT modification (Tom. L Ὁ. 525; also Tom.

another, and from one animal to les plus grands dialogues de Platon—
another. (See Alkinous, Introd. in le la le
" «ὦ τοῦ, ἰῃ République, le Phadre,

CHap. XXV. PLATO'S DOCTRINE NOT FOLLOWED. 497

be material as well as the body, considered it as ἃ detached frag-
ment of the all-pervading cosmical or mundane soul, which was
re-absorbed after the death of the individual into the great whole
to which it belonged. None of these philosophers were per-
suaded by the arguments of Plato. The popular orthodoxy,
which he often censures harshly, recognised some sort of posthu-
mous existence as a part of its creed; and the uninquiring
multitude continued in the teaching and traditions of their
youth. But literary and philosophical men, who sought to form
some opinion for themselves without altogether rejecting (as the
Epikureans rejected) the basis of the current traditions—were in
no better condition for deciding the question with the assistance
of Plato, than they would have been without him. While the
knowledge of the bodily organism, and of mind or soul as em-
bodied therein, received important additions, from’ Aristotle
down to Galen—no new facts either were known or could be-
come known, respecting soul per se, considered as pre-existent or
post-existent to body. Galen expressly records his dissatisfaction
with Plato on this point, though generally among his warmest
admirers. Questions of this kind remained always problematical,
standing themes for rhetoric or dialectic.1 Every man could do,

trace manifeste dans d autres dialogues Dr. Henry More, in his ‘Treatise on
moins considérables, le Menon le the Immortality of the Soul,’ argues at
Politique, par exemple. La trans- considerable length in defence of the
migration est méme positivement pre-existence of each soul, as a part of
in que dans le dixiame Livre des the doctrine. He considers himself to
Lois, ot Platon traite avec tant de have clearly proved—“‘ That the pre-

ἐν ται κεν

“ nce an e e
serieux, δὲ de tant de oi free ἃ of the most renowned philosophers
revenir sur des qui ne varient all of the world”. Of these last-
pas, je crois que tout t sensé ne mentioned philosophers he gives a list,
peut que partager Yavis de M. Cousin. as follows—Moses, on the authority

est im le que Platon ne se of the Βοος Cab un, Emapodoctes,
quien p baninage. Ties tées, Cebés, For! τὰ Plato Kueh} uclid, Philo
qu’un pur a , aripi 0,
sans les modifier en rien, au milieu δ Mareas Cicero, Plotin

Plotinus, Jam-
les plus αἱ graves et les ii us, Proclus, Boethius, Psellus,

pins étendues. Ajoutez que ces doc- Synesius, Marsilius Ficinus,
es tiennent intimément A toutes ec. xii. and xiii pages

celles qui sont le fond méme du la- 116, 117, 121 of his Treatise. Compare

fonieme, ot quiclles s'y entrelacen si also what he says in Sect. 18 of his

étroitement, ἐν que les en détacher, cest Preface General, enema, Pee παν.

le mutiler et l'amoindrir. Le systéme 1 Seneca sa ** Innu-

des Idées ne se com d pas tout merabiles sun de animo :
réminiscence : la

et domiollic
Pame.” malium formas aliasque conjectas, an

428 PHADON. Cuar. XXV.

though not with the same exuberant eloquence, what Plato had
done—and no man could do more. Every man could coin his
own hopes and fears, his own esthetical preferences and repug-
nances, his own ethical aspiration to distribute rewards and
punishments among the characters around him—into affirma-
tive prophecies respecting an unknowable future, where neither
verification nor Elenchus were accessible. The state of this
discussion throughout the Pagan world bears out the following ©
remark of Lord Macaulay, with which I conclude the present
chapter :—

“There are branches of knowledge with respect to which the
law of the human mind is progress. . . . But with theology,
the case is very different. As respects natural religion—revela-—

_ tion being for the present altogether left out of the question—it

is not easy to see that a philosopher of the present day is more
favourably situated than Thales or Simonides. . . . As to
the other great question—the question, what becomes of man
after death—we do not see that a highly educated European, left
to his unassisted reason, is more likely to be in the right than a
Blackfoot Indian. Not a single one of the many sciences in
which we surpass the Blackfoot Indians, throws the smallest
light on the state of the soul after the animal life is extinct. In
truth, all the philosophers, ancient and modern, who have
attempted, without the help of revelation, to prove the immor-
tality of man—from Plato down to Franklin—appear to us to
have failed deplorably. Then again, all the great enigmas which
perpldx the natural theologian are the same in all ages. The
ingenuity of a people just emerging from barbarism, is quite
sufficient to propound them. The genius of Locke or Clarke is
quite unable to solve them. . . . Natural Theology, then, is
not a progressive science.” !

sane oh ert anton Ei ott
sit, an non sit: quid sit facturus, quum 210). Sir Wm. Hamilton, arts
per nos aliquid facere desierit : Cectures on mn Logic, Lect. 26 p. εὖ
modo libertate usurus, cum ex ‘ Thus Plato, in the Pheedon, amon
exierit cavef: an obliviscatur prioram strates the immortality of the soul from
et illic nosse incipiat, postquam de its simplicity : in the Republic, he de-

corpore abductus in subl secessit.” monstrates ite eimplicity from its im-
Compare Lucretius, i. 118. mortality ”

END OF VOL. IL

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